Wormwood
by Verlotorium
Summary: Scion was defeated, his shards fractured and scattered across the cosmos. I could finally retire from the cape life, go to college, make new friends, and live on peacefully in a world without superpowered psychos breathing down my neck. Fate just refused to let me catch a break.
1. Arc 1: Genesis 1-1

**Disclaimer** _: Worm is the property of Wildbow, and I do not claim to own any of his ideas or characters. I do plan on writing something as awesome as Worm in the near future though =)._

* * *

-Materia Blade's Copacetic has influenced this piece more than any other work. Although I am trying very hard not to create a Copacetic clone, it has affected the way I look at characters like the Heberts and Alternate!Annette Rose.

-Death Ray is an unashamed ripoff of Death Point from Brandon Sanderson's Steelheart. There is more than a passing resemblance between the Bookstore scene and the opening bank scene from Steelheart.

-Guardian's power is based heavily off of the "Coinshot" archetype from the Mistborn franchise, and Jonathan "Professor" Phaedrus from the Reckoners.

-I have lifted some cape powersets from Marion G. Harding's "Wearing the Cape" series, most notably the villains in the first Sogand interlude.

If you haven't read Brandon Sanderson's books or Wearing the Cape, I highly recommend 'em .

A special thanks to Wanton Construction for being an awesome beta from arc 2 and beyond.

* * *

 _We're so very small, in the end._

 _The first bullet hit me from behind, where my mask offered no coverage, and I slowly toppled. The second hit me before I could fall, before there could be any pain.  
_ _  
_Darkness.

C _old...  
_  
My life flashed before my eyes. My mother's tender smile as I fumbled over her flute for the first time. Clinging to Emma, crying on her shoulder after the fatal car accident that claimed my mother's life.

 _Am I dead?_

Emma, how she turned her back on me seemingly out of nowhere. The bullying, the cruelty, the anguish she had inflicted on me with Sophia and Madison. All those intimate, vulnerable moments shared with her, turned around and twisted like a knife in my stomach..

 _Taylor…._ _  
_ _  
_Shutting me in that locker, the awful, _awful_ vomit inducing stench that caused my trigger event and landed me in the hospital.

 _"_ Please... _"_

Juice raining down on my head in the bathroom stall, soaking me from head to toe as teenage girls giggled maliciously. Painstakingly crafting my first costume. My first night out, the battle against Lung on the rooftop.

Meeting the Undersiders, people who I cherished above all else. Loved even. Dad. My anchors.

Drifting.

The bank robbery, the fundraiser, holding off Leviathan in the shelter, executing Coil - my first kill. Captured by Bonesaw. Lying helpless, unable to help Brian as he was splayed out and tortured by Bonesaw.

The cafeteria.

Dragon and Armsmaster revealing my identity to the world. All these images quickly flashed by in succession. My deep impression of shock and horror when I watched Behemoth flash fry Regent alive. Two years, training and planning with the Wards to stop Jack Slash, halt the apocalypse, only to fail at the end. The terrible, excruciating _agony_ of being split in two by Scion, and having my arm cauterized by Lung not too long after.

Pain.

Huh _?_ _  
_ _  
_Pain.

Burning.

Agony.

Blurring.

Focusing.

Bright lights.

I woke.

I bolted up frantically, throwing off a heavy object straped over my torso. My chest rattled with an intense, burning pain, and the monitors around me to begin beep furiously as I clawed at the tubes and needles sticking into my body.

 _*Thump. Thump.*_

My heart rate skyrocketed as my eyes swept the room, searching for danger.

 _Deadly golden lights, the screams of dying men, Lab Rat, an insectoid body, Oil Rig, Gavel's last charge, ripped apart the crazed and maniacal laughter of Scion as he slaughtered us by the dozens._

"Taylor! You're awake!" .

Dad.

I was flabbergasted, I had walked into my final battle thinking just about everything I had ever cared for was dead or lying in a smoking crater, and left it knowing I could not ever be trusted again by the world at large. What I had done and was capable of warranted a kill order ten times over.

"Dad...w-where are we?" I croaked weakly as the initial surge of adrenaline faded.

I reached out to him with my arm and froze, seeing the prosthetic prop where my arm used to be. I couldn't feel the bugs around me - the cries and sensations of a billion lifeforms, silent for the first time in years, it was eerily quiet.

My powers were seemingly gone.

My entire body was wracked in a burning agony, and a splitting headache radiated out from the back of my head.

Sadly enough, I'd gotten through much worse.

"A woman brought you to me while the whole Scion incident was simmering down. You were covered head to toe in bandages. Taylor, I-I can't even begin to tell you how worried I was. Seeing you lying there, bleeding from the back of your head with half your arm missing..."

I reached over with my one good arm, and I could feel two indentations on the back of my head. The holes flared up with a dull pain as my fingers passed over the bandages.

Just when I'd thought Contessa's powers couldn't be any more ridiculous, she managed to up the ante by _performing brain surgery on me with a fucking handgun._

"She told me that you were too instrumental in stopping Scion, that you made too many enemies in the last battle and made tough, terrible decisions, decisions that overloaded your powers. The woman told me that we needed to go to a new world to stay safe, that it would better if our world thought you were dead."

He paused for a second, a troubled look on his face, likely wondering if he would ever want to know exactly what had happened in the final battle against Scion

 _Could I look him in the eyes if he ever knew what truly happened that day? What I did… how I became Khepri?_

"She told me it was important that we went to a world without a cape presence for the our own safety. Luckily enough, she knew about a portal to a world that fit the bill. They're also sympathetic to refugees here, since Scion did do a fair share of damage to the planet. Scion...h-he made one pass over the planet and wiped large chunks of their world off the map. They got off lightly compared to us though, they only had a death toll at around 500 million people."

500 million, what a world we lived in, where _500 million_ dead could be considered comparatively light. _  
_  
"Anyway, she blended us in with other Earth Bet refugees and helped us register over at D.C. They gave us identification papers, a fake background in their systems, and a little bit of money to start us off. We're on a different world now Taylor. We have new identities, a fresh start, and more importantly we're in a world where you're not… you're not _Skitter_ or Weaver, and never have to be."

He reached down into a bag and pulled out a New York State government ID and a US passport. The picture they used was the same as the one on my old Winslow High School ID, but my last name had been changed to _Harris_ of all things.

Dad stared at the picture for a second, and promptly began tearing up. I couldn't do anything but gape at him in silence.

"It's finally over Taylor, you've done your part. This is Earth Samek, a world without superheroes and villains. We can move on, happily ever after. No more Weaver, no more Skitter, no more crazy psychos and city-destroying monsters."

He wrapped his arms around me in a hug, sobbing as I choked to breathe through his gangly but tight grip. He let me go after a moment, and gave me a moment to collect myself.  
 _  
_For the first time in two years, I smiled in was defeated, and I had earned my happy ending of sorts. I had a fresh start, a new identity, and I was on a quiet world with no Grade A superpowered psychos.

I took a deep breath and sighed in relief, glad that the nightmare was finally over.

-ooo-

"Well, it could've been much worse." I deadpanned

Dad and I stood outside the open door of my new apartment, travel bags in hand.

We had been on Earth Samek for about a year, and for the first couple of months we moved from DC to Boston and Philadelphia looking for work. Luckily enough, skilled labor was in large demand along the coastal cities that the companies didn't care if their applicants were natives or if they were refugees from Aleph or Bet. Sion's rampage had killed off a good chunk of the world's population, and millions had died along the eastern seaboard before he had left Samek.

I'd taken classes at a community college in between physical therapy sessions while we were moving, and filed an application to NYU's under the Golden Morning Refugee Program. A month ago, Dad finally landed a job at an IT firm in New Jersey, and before we knew it, we'd found ourselves driving to New York City. I helped dad get settled down at Jersey City yesterday, and now it was his turn to help me move in.

The apartment I rented out had definitely seen better days, but it was definitely in better shape than it had been when we first looked at it. It was a one bedroom located right above a grocery store in the Lower East Side, where the previous tenant had vanished and fallen off the grid entirely a few months ago. The landlord was in a hurry to rent it out below as quickly as he could, pricing it below the area's market price, but he hadn't had enough time to clean it out before we browsed it.

I reached out with my mind, feeling the faintest tug on my mind as I sensed the presence of a population of roaches in the walls and floors. In the months since I had woken up in the hospital, I felt a small portion of my power return to me. However, I had never ended up regaining more than a modicum of it back, just slightly elevated multitasking ability and the ability to sense bugs despite my best efforts.

Despite the dotted indents in the wall that looked suspiciously like bullet holes, it was still the best offer I found in the area. The wooden floor glowed with a sparkle of fresh polish, and the walls were smooth with the sheen of a new paint job.

"At least it has hot water and electricity" I said, setting my bags on the floor. "Plus school is only a fifteen minute walk away."

"You'll be living here until school starts next week Taylor, so you'd might as well make yourself comfortable" Dad replied.

After a while, we finished filling out the empty apartment with some basic furniture. It was fairly spartan, consisting of a couch and table for the living room and work desk for me to study at. I wouldn't have internet access for a few more days, but the laptop we had purchased for school did have wi-fi access, and I figured it would be a good time to explore the campus

Dad reached over, and gave me a tight hug.

"Stay safe, alright sweetie? Don't get into any trouble" he said before heading out the door.

Time to look around a little, I guess.

A few hours later I strode up second avenue, laptop in my backpack, walking stick secured in my prosthetic hand as I nibbled at a Matcha gelato cone. I had gotten it from a tea shop the block over, and I would definitely be visiting it again.

The cars around me blared their horns, stuck in a traffic jam, and the wonderful fragrance of grilled kebabs and gyro meat wafted in the hot summer air.

Manhattan was a nice place to live after all, despite the questionable state of my apartment.

I walked up the street, adjusting my prosthetic arm, and passed by a cluster of televisions turned to a talk show. I continued down the street for a moment until I heard something that made me snap around to gape at the screens.

"Helllooooooo lady and gentleman and welcome to Kirkland Live! This is Abby Kirkland, and we are here today with Professor Jonas Kunhardt of New York University's Langone Medical Center to discuss the rapid rise in what the tabloids have been calling "metahumans", people with superpowers!" the TVs echoed her exclamation, passing the mic to the middle aged Professor.

"Thank you Abby, as you know, Scion's attack on our world left us with a considerable death toll, rest their souls, not to mention trillions of dollars of infrastructural damage. His appearance was already quite surreal as it was. After all, it isn't every day that gold-skinned psychopath blazes out of a portal in the sky, bringing destruction and genocide upon our world."

"Something just as strange has been occurring over the past year , however. When news first came to our world about the multiverse and what could be found in our parallel worlds, we could scarcely believe it. It invoked countless questions in philosophy, the nature of free will, and quantum mechanics, but that's a story for another time. Could any us have believed in the existence of honest to god superheroes if we hadn't seen it for ourselves?"

"Whether it was due to the portals opening to other worlds or if it was due to Scion's passage through our world, we have discovered a plethora of new exotic matters and particles in research institutes across the world since then. It still remains to be seen if this will prove to be a blessing or a curse, but one thing cannot be denied."

He took a remote in hand and changed view of the screen in the backdrop, replacing the Kirkland show's logo with aerial footage depicting a battle between two costumed individuals in some sort of city street. There was a man with a devil mask clad in a red duster throwing red lightning at a man with a ski mask, poncho, and dark grey jeans as he ducked between tight alleyways.

"Although nothing like the spectacular powers we witnessed in the countless courageous individuals battling Scion, people in our world have been appearing in public with the ability to run as quickly as cars, shoot bolts of plasma out of their hands, turn invisible, and more. People have been turning into metahumans, beings with superpowers, 'capes' if you want to borrow the Earth Bet term. What's more, they are acting out the roles they have played in our media for decades. Supervillains and superheroes, can you believe it?"

Superpowers. Capes.

I stared at the screens in total shock and disbelief.


	2. Genesis 1-2

**Disclaimer:** Worm is the property of Wildbow, I do not claim to own any of his ideas or characters. I do hope I'll be able to write something as awesome as Worm in the future though =)

* * *

"Hey move it young lady! Goddamn these transplant college kids."

A middle-aged man shoved past me roughly, snapping me out of my stupor. I blinked, realizing I had spaced out for a good couple of minutes in shock.

Witnessing an interview that revealed the existence of superpowers on Earth Samek was a little much to handle. My brain numbed, tuning out the host and professor as they discussed their theories on what the presence of superpowers would mean for society and the balance of geopolitical power.

I ran down Broadway, heading towards campus as quickly as I could. My leisurely "stroll" had been ruined, and I was desperate for some peace of mind after having my entire world pulled down on me yet again.

A few minutes later, I arrived at campus and dashed up the stairs to the student center. I crashed into a boy carrying a stack of papers on my way up, causing a handful of flyers to come crashing down to the ground.

"Sorry!" I yelled back, as I ran up to the computers in the back lounge on the second floor.

I halted in front of a public computer, and frantically logged in with my student ID. The room was relatively empty, since the orientation events hadn't started yet. My fingers drummed nervously as the loading bar progressed, all while my mind raced through my past experiences on Earth Bet, experiences I have tried to bury over the past year.

I hoped the people of this earth would never know horrors such as Endbringers, Sleeper, or Slaughterhouse Nine. That they would never be forced to allow swarms of criminals to roam free in the hopes they would be useful in a fight against beings too powerful to exist.

Superheroes had captured public wonder and admiration in speculative fiction long before trigger events had actually appearing in earnest on Earth Bet. Even early on, the likes of the Guild and Protectorate in their original iteration had been paragons of truth and justice to the public, using their ridiculously overpowered abilities to bring crime to a historical low.

That time would later on be referred to as the Golden Age of Superheroes, before the statistical nature of trigger events led supervillains to gradually outnumber superheroes. Eventually, villains had surfaced who could challenge the likes of Legend, Alexandria, and Eidolon. The incident where Hero had been ripped apart alive by the then-unstoppable Siberian had marked the end of an era.

My initial searches had confirmed my fears, the world was in a honeymoon period where superpowered heroes of imagination had come to life, and the alarming signs were already present. Early sociological research indicated poor, violent areas were correlated with higher frequencies of "metahuman incidence" although the triggers were more randomly distributed than the PRT stats back home had indicated.

Strangely enough, I had also discovered that the world had a pre-existing "Real Life Superhero" movement before triggers started occuring, where unpowered local groups had formed patrolled to fight crime like glorified neighborhood watches. They stood as a notable outlier from the violence-trigger correlation, having a considerably higher trigger rate than average.

I changed my search to look for cape sightings in New York City, making note of the local heroes and villains that had sprung up in the area. A small, second tier city on Earth Bet like Brockton Bay would have several dozen active capes at a time. The number would bound to be higher in a first tier city like New York.

"Hey hey hey, what's with the hurry? Sheesh, why is everyone in this damn school so high strung?" I heard a voice speak out behind me.

I whirled around towards the voice.

It was the student I had almost barreled over on my way in. He stood over a table, organizing the papers I had knocked out of his hand on a table behind me.

Seeing me turn around, he made eye contact with me and offered his hand.

"Hey there, nice to meet ya! My name's Alex, I volunteer back here in the student resource center in my spare time. You a freshman? What's your name?"

"My name's Taylor, Taylor Harris, I'm a...second year transfer I'd say? I kind of spent the last year bouncing between Philadelphia and Boston" I responded.

Standing slightly above my height, Alex's hair was short raven black, styled in a neatly trimmed crew cut. A bit of stubble lined his face, and he greeted me with a warm smile.

He was a pretty big and stocky Asian guy, all things considered, with broad shoulders, thick powerful bear-like limbs, and a light gut, kind of like a heavyweight wrestler or amateur weightlifter. He wore a light black vest and red polo, and an ornate jade dragon necklace hung off his neck.

"Oh man, that's pretty cool, where you coming in from?" he said, pulling up a chair next to me while organizing the papers.

I fidgeted uncomfortably, rem- _crazed maniacal laughter, hundreds of capes fighting to their last breath around me, golden rays of light searing through Kid Win's chest, executing Aster with a gun, the smell of ozone as-_

"You alright?" he spoke gently, his voice laced with concern as his eyes wandered to my prosthetic arm.

"It's a-alright, it just bruoght up some bad memories, that's all. I spent a year in physical rehab, taking classes at community college af-after Gold Morning" I stammered.

Way to play it cool Taylor.

His eyes softened as they wandered to my computer screen

"I see..." he said, adjusting his glasses to look at my screen.

My search had paused on a news article depicting a skirmish from earlier in the week. It was the same pair that had fought on the televised interview, a man in a ski mask and poncho chased by a slender man in a duster and devil mask.

The man with the ski mask and poncho had named himself "Noble," in a brief stint when reporters had cornered him immediately after the incident.

Noble had stumbled upon a masked jewelry store armed robbery on a lazy Sunday afternoon in Harlem, and confronted the culprit with an impromptu disguise.

He'd gotten streaks of red, destructive energy flung in his direction for his trouble, and noble made an arcing movement that threw the projectile off to the side. The cell phone footage quickly followed them as they danced through a deadly game of cat and mouse as Noble led the villain through the winding streets of the west side.

His adversary, who the press had kindly named "Phaser" had fled once the sirens started approaching

As the journalists tried to get more out of him he suddenly jumped from straight over a nearby building before anyone could get a second word out of him.

Definitely some kind of Mover.

"I take it you're a bit of a superhero geek, huh?" he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Just a little worried," I responded, "Everyone is all caught up in the spectacular fantasy of it all, they haven't even begun to think of what sorts of trouble superhuman powers can bring. I'm trying to scope out the local cape scene because I don't want any nasty surprises like the one that got me this." I waved around my prosthetic arm for emphasis.

"I feel you," he responded. "I keep my ears to the ground whenever I can. The students here...well, most of them aren't like the commuters that frequent this lounge. Most NYU students have grown up pretty privileged, a bit detached from reality, and all the dirty under-goings. I'm from the projects, you know? I wouldn't even be able to dream about affording NYU without a scholarship."

He leaned over and pointed his finger next to the tab I had open on violent crime being correlated with metahuman manifestation.

"That." He paused.

"Really, _really_ fucking worries me. I'm a start-up programmer with a background in math. I know my numbers and can see what the stats imply, it doesn't take a genius to figure out."

"If superpowers manifest the way they have been, choosing people in danger and fucked up stressful situations, the heroes are only a few years away from being terribly outnumbered by the villains. We aren't living in an idyllic comic book fantasy like Golden Age DC. This is going to turn out like The Watchmen or worse, all things considered equal."

"Yeah" I agreed, although I really didn't understand all his pop culture references. Comic books had faded out of popularity in Earth Bet in my childhood apart from a select niche audience. Why go for the campy colored books when there was so much real life intrigue?

"Anyway", he continued. "I need to get this stuff organized, so just drop by the commuter lounge between if you ever wanna talk about stuff or hang out. You can find me on Facebook, look for 'Alex Seto' and I should pop right up. Toss me your number later, and all that jazz."

I bid him the best of luck, and started making my way home. It would be a long week ahead.

* * *

One thing Earth Bet and Samek had in common was in their portrayals of New York City in the media as a crime-riddled hellhole. It was actually a very egregious misconception in both cases. Back on Earth Bet, New York City was home to some of the most powerful heroes in the Protectorate, including names such as Legend on its roster, along with an amazing Thinker support team consisting of Radar and Street Sweeper. Within a decade of the Protectorate's formation, systemic crime had been stomped to a record low in the city, barring a few troublesome infestations such as the Teeth.

I had checked in on the statistics before coming here, and found that the policies passed by the recent city mayors had dropped the crime rate as much as Legend and Radar's presence had in Earth Bet.

So of course fate would have it so that I'd run into an armed robbery by a clear sex offender on my _first night out_ in New York City, as a relative normal no less.

"My my my, what a lovely little flower we have here, you shouldn't be out alone, you know? Things have been dangerous around here."

The man before me in the back alley was homeless, and I could smell cheap liquor under his breath. He brandished his knife at me, leering the entire time. I fiddled with my walking stick, taking care to look as nervous as I could while I backed up and switched my grips.

I kicked myself, wondering why I had taken the detour down Broome street. It would've only shaved 5 minutes off my jog back.

 _This is what you get for taking shortcuts, Taylor_.

"Just empty your pockets, unbuckle your belt, lie down quietly, and spread those cheeks for me girl. Maybe noone has to get hurt...I've always wondered what amputees are like in the sack. _H_ _eh heh heh_."

He started advancing forward, and I backed up while considering my options. I fiddled with my walking stick while backing up, taking care to look as nervous as I could while I switched my grip to my left hand.

When I first started out on my escapades as Skitter, I had largely relied on my bugs to fight. I was an ambush fighter, and in worst case scenarios, I fell back on my pepper spray and running to get myself out of trouble. In the event that I couldn't fall back of any of the three options, I was in a very, _very_ bad spot.

I had been unskilled and awkward in close quarters combat, but that had changed quite a bit after I had joined the Wards. The Protectorate had more than enough resources to allot, and my preference for a knife and combat baton had not gone unnoticed. In the time I had spent with the Wards as Weaver, I had received a fairly decent amount of training in Eskrima.

By no means was I a master with only two years of formal training, but combined with the ridiculous amount of combat experience I had in that timeframe, I was skilled enough with a stick to be a serious threat up close for someone not on his full game.

As he lunged to pin me against the wall, I twisted, bringing my stick up at a sharp angle and cracking him solidly against the jaw. He stumbled, dazed, as I followed his movement in a quarter circle and grappled him. I took care to lock his knife arm in a figure four against my prosthetic arm and twisted, using as much leverage as I could, causing the knife and my prosthetic to go flying across the alley. I brought my stick back down in a backhand, striking him in the nose, then brought it down on the back of his knee with another quick strike, hearing a *CRACK* in the process. He dropped to the ground, and another lash of my stick with my weight behind it left him crumpled on the ground, blissfully on the way to unconsciousness.

I panted, feeling the surge of adrenaline fade as he groaned in agony

I blinked, fighting off a sense of deja-vu, why did this man seem to look so familiar?

Ah well, it was probably nothing. I picked up my arm and bolted out of there as quickly as I could.

* * *

 _Damn_

I stood perched on the rooftop, where I had silently watched the mugging play out from the shadows. I lowered my hand, since it was definitely no longer necessary to project a barrier for Taylor, and felt a familiar tug as my power faded.

Taylor gone down a route that had become notorious since Scion had destroyed chunks of Greenpoint and the East Village, attaching Manhattan to Long Island in a land bridge. The East Village was plagued with vagrants, and had become a hotbed for a new surge of violent crime over recent months.

I patrolled the area frequently after my shifts in the SRC, and had gotten a decent amount of experience over the summer in amateur heroics. Naturally, when I noticed the nice transfer student I'd met earlier being threatened by a man with a knife, I was ready to step in.

Little did I know the frail, lanky looking bespectacled girl would pull out a classic self defense maneuver straight out of Judo and outright break the man attacking her.

Taylor had left the guy crumpled in a heap with his elbow and knee twisted at awkward angles, and the guy probably had a concussion to boot.

I flicked my tracker on, letting Maddie know I had a suspect ready for pick-up, cursing as my poncho got snagged for a moment on loose tiling. I needed to get a real costume soon, preferably something more than a ski mask to hide my face and a stupid looking poncho to hide my body type.

One thing was for certain, I was going to keep an eye out for Taylor Harris.

Something about her just didn't seem to add up.


	3. Genesis 1-3, Alex

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Worm, Worm is the property of wildbow AKA John McCrae

* * *

 **[Friday 8-22-2014, 9:37 P.M]**

I scanned the horizon, basking in the gorgeous night scenery on the bank of the Hudson river. The winds billowed around me, causing the hilariously stereotypical trench coat I picked up for my task tonight to flutter in the wind.

I took a deep breath of fresh air, clearing away the remaining stagnant subway musk I'd been inhaling for the past forty minutes.

It was going to be a long night, especially since I'd witnessed a mugging only an hour into my patrol.

Just another incident in an endless stream of bullshit. Bullshit I've been dealing with ever since I had decided to clean up this city, where the cops couldn't and wouldn't.

Tonight, my target was going to be the largest one I'd tackled yet. After months of beating up muggers, rapists, and Mac Baller Brim gangbangers, I finally had a lead. My target tonight was going to be the Gunther Schumann Institute, a recently opened research facility over Riverside park.

According to Dagger, it was also front for a contraband smuggling ring controlled by the Heavenly Sons syndicate.

I tapped my comm link:

"You there Val?"

Crackling static followed in response my inquiry.

"Paging Valeria Falacci, come in."

A blip emitted from my communicator, followed by the sound of something crashing to the ground.

"Yeah, yeah I'm her-ow! You gonna go ahead with it?"

"Yup, I owe it to Bobby at the very least" I said, collecting myself as I prepared to head over and scope out the building.

I thought back to the nightmare that had appeared during Spring finals last year. A terrible, waking dream that the world had never woken up from.

New York City was Ground Zero of Scion's attack, where the Golden Man had appeared out of nowhere. In a fit of manic glee that had been projected across the city, Scion had _exploded_ with what I could only call a golden fucking nuke. In a flash of yellow light, large portions of Brooklyn, Queens, and the East Village had been leveled, killing tens of thousands in a heartbeat.

Then, he'd slowly, and sadistically strafed Manhattan with lasers while almost like he was experimenting.

His psychotic, _eerily human_ laughter still haunted my nightmares to this day. 

My friends and I had been walking down west SoHo when Scion had appeared in that horrible burst of gold. He hovered in the air over the east river, shining with enough intensity to be seen from miles.

There was hardly any time for us to react when a golden beam of light came crashing our way, searing through a skyscraper. In an instant, the building crumbled, and fell apart, dropping several tons of debris directly on us. My heart was seized in panic as a wall of debris loomed towards Val and Rob, something that would surely have killed them.

My legs moved on their own, and I rushed at my friends with all my strength, shoving them out of the way. I wasn't fast enough though, and the cascade of debris landed on my lower body, mangling and crushing my left leg instantly.

I still remembered the fear and desperation I felt, the crushing realization that I would have to get a leg amputated, even if I managed to miraculously survive the physical trauma.

Then suddenly, there was a vision of sorts. A flash, a hallucination, abstract images blurred by. Concepts that a human mind, no matter how brilliant, could not even begin to comprehend.

For some reason, I suddenly realized that I would be fine. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I just knew.

I sensed the fire hydrant anchored to the ground behind me and _pulled_ with my mind, causing my left leg to snap off in a gory mess half-way down the shin. Strangely enough, I had only felt a mild, dull ache, which I had chalked up to all the adrenaline. Then, I realized my lower leg was rapidly reforming itself down to the bone. In seconds, my leg was as good as new, and I vaulted on to my feet.

Val had nearly passed out from the shock of seeing me tear my own leg off to escape. However, she had also manifested a power on the spot, which granted her a ludicrously useful danger sense. A power which we used to avoid follow-up lasers and falling debris.

We later discovered that whatever happened had enhanced her already keen analytical and engineering-focused mind, letting her interpret data and numerical systems like no other. In a week, she had thrown together enough scrap parts in the warehouse we rented out to build a quantum computer that could launch brute force decryption attacks using Grover's and Shor's algorithm.

I kept some of that regeneration ability, which had become slower and less potent in the time since. Thankfully I never had to put it to the test and see if I could regrow a dismembered limb again.

Not only that, her danger sense applied as long as she could see and hear what was going on, which was unbelievably useful to have out in the field.

So with the help of our newfound powers, we survived, and managed to make it to shelter.

Then, while I stood in the middle of that skate park, _they_ came.

Superheroes, thousands of goddamn _superheroes_ appeared out of portals in the sky in near-perfect synchronization. They came in many forms, but most of them wore costumes or intricate power armor. They'd somehow managed to follow Scion for thousands of miles down the Eastern Seaboard, South America, then down around Antarctica and the Eastern Hemisphere. In the aftermath of the Golden Morning, the world would turn its gaze to the footage that had been captured by satellites across the globe. We would all stare in awe and fear as we witnessed the extra-dimensional capes attacking him in vain. They perished, dropping into charred pieces by the hundreds, all but helpless as the Golden Man scourged the surface of our world.

As quickly as they came, the Golden Man and the foreign superheroes left, taking the souls of nearly a twentieth of the world population with them. It was only later when a representative from their worlds came that we learned of his name.

Scion, the destroyer of worlds.

My friends and I had sworn never to speak of our experience to anyone that wasn't present, and we had gone on home, forever shaken by the event but glad to be alive.

A month later, Bobby went missing without a word, his parents and brother dead in a double murder-suicide committed by his father.

Noone had seen him since.

However, something had seriously bugged me about the murder-suicide. The local news had reported it as a footnote, but all of Rob's social media pages had vanished, and all other traces of him wiped were from public records and the internet.

I began to dig a little deeper.

Forensic evidence Val pulled up had indicated that Doctor Kunhold shot himself according to the report, and that his death was officially noted down as a suicide.

Remarkably, he managed to do so by shooting himself in the back of his own head.

Val and I had looked tirelessly for more information behind a secure connection, and the closest lead we had to Bobby's fate was his father - Doctor Maxwell Kunhold.

Maxwell Kunhold was a leading high energy physicist, and had managed to detect signs of new three new Fermions and prove the existence of Tachyons merely a week before Scion had shown up.

I was convinced that his disappearance was tied to Scion's appearance on our world, and all the exotic material Scion had brought with him. However, the information blackout on the Kunhold family and their history made is nearly impossible to find any leads.

We spent a year learning to control our powers and make use of her spectacularly honed mind, seeking to staunch the bleeding and death throes of a great city that was slowly slipping back into its crime-ridden past.

Slowly we found our way into New York City's underworld, taking down drug rings and interrogating individuals in the city's seedy underbelly without the slightest hint of a clue of what we were looking for. That was until we finally got a name from a mafia enforcer - Doctor Rena Andrews, former research professor at Columbia and Harvey Mudd, and now a high ranking researcher at the Gunther Schumann Institute.

But that's enough reminiscence for now.

"Alright Val, I'm heading over now."

"Be careful, Alex."

I felt for the piping beneath the concrete and pushed with my power, launching myself over the trees.

-ooo-

I landed on the first rooftop in a small stumble, rolling into a crouch on top of the four story bodega.

I peered out in to the darkness towards the south and picked out a large structure in the distance. It was my destination - the Schumann Institute.

Dashing across the rooftop, I pulled on the water tower, slingshotting into a push as I ran past it, jumping off in a running leap. I pushed off the cars and street lights, forming weak barriers to help me hop across to the other side before yanking up on the chimney to throw myself over the ledge into another somersault.

It really screwed with my sensibilities, trying to figure out _how_ my power let me form force barriers between me and metal objects I focused on. Moreover, the barriers I could create scaled in size based on the surface area of the objects I "anchored" them to.

There was also the question of why my barriers were exponentially stronger when formed closer to sources of metal I focused my attention on.

Then there was also the whole pushing and pulling myself towards metal objects thing without creating an opposing force on them, but only when the objects in question had sufficient amounts of continuous metallic mass.

Any physicist would have a heart attack trying to figure out how any of this worked.

But hey, who was I to question it?

I continued to rush ahead in the darkness, using my power to help me leap across rooftops. Leaping across rooftops like this filled me with a novel sense of joy - the concrete and steel pillars of New York had become one massive parkour field for me to free-run through.

Seeing the research institute ahead, I pushed off the building beneath me as hard as I could, and yanked myself towards it, easily clearing a sixty foot arc. I quickly carved a chunk out of the glass on the fifth floor of the ten story building as I approached it, causing the glass to fall over onto the (thankfully) soft carpet with a *plink*.

My body followed soon after, and I quickly pushed off the piping to cut my velocity so I wouldn't splatter against the floor.

"Dagger, you there?"

"Yea?"

"I'm inside."

"Alright, let's make this a quick in and out. As we discussed, I pulled construction records back for a year, and they definitely have something sketchy going on in the basement" she paused, and I could heard the rustles of paper and Val at work in front of her keyboard.

"I paid Truesight to take a look down there the other day, and there's an entire floor down there hidden from the construction records. It's also shielded from her vision, so whoever designed it had the foresight to invest in gadgeteer tech to keep it extra hard to pry. It could easily just be the Sons using it to store contraband and raw materials, but well, this is a biotech lab so..."

"I get the point" I stated. "Stay quiet, move quickly, bounce at the first sign of trouble."

"Be careful, you big oaf. I'd better not lose you too" Dagger replied somberly.

-ooo-

I put my hands against the floor, concentrating hard on forming and expanding small barriers closer to the steel mesh. The closer I was to my barriers, the more fine control I had over the way they formed, and the more steel that was around them, the denser and larger I could make them.

A minute later, the flooring was ripped apart from within and I hopped down into an office. Dropping through the floor, I repeated the process seven more times. I found myself stumbling through a net of pipes for about 20 feet on the last one, and I slowed my descent by pulling up in intermittent jerks.

I ungraciously landed on top of a clearly hidden structure beneath the building. WIthout a moment of hesitation, I broke through another floor floor, landing in a janitorial closet. I broke the floor here again, and found nothing but dirt beneath me this time.

Moment of truth, Alex.

I stuck my head out, peering through the lit hallway then quickly quickly pulled back when I realized it was monitored by cameras. The dim hum of electricity filled the air, along with distant footsteps.

"Still with me, Dagger?" I whispered, putting on the eyepiece she'd made for me so she could get a visual feed.

"Yeah, give me a sec..."

I reached out, getting a feel for the layout of the basement. There were three small clusters of metal moving around the floor, which I suspected to be security guards armed with either knives or guns.

There was a room on my right, and I held my hand up to feel the draft.

"Dagger, room on my right, getting any dangerous vibes here?"

"I'm not getting anything, proceed forward with caution though."

I threw up a barrier in the wall causing it to weaken, before stepping into it with a step-up sidekick. I broke through, entering a large single stall bathroom.

"Alright, time to see if..." Dagger muttered.

"No" I responded, "There's a ridiculous amount of metal to my right, running under the Hudson."

Rather than searching for any hidden doors or any of that bullshit, I channeled my power and tore into the wall. The wall weakened, but refused to give after a few tries.

I stepped back, pulled on a large cluster of metal on the other side to aid my momentum, and jumped at it with a flying sidekick, causing the wall to crumble. It took a second for the dust to settle, and I stepped through into a large laboratory.

"What the fuck?" Dagger echoed my thoughts.

Standing in a neat row, there were about two dozen pods with grossly human-like shapes preserved within. They were twisted into various states of macabre horror, out of a sci fi horror flick. Each pod had a slew of life monitoring equipment attached, with LED lights blipping dimly in the darkness. The subjects ranged from anything from radiation burn victims to slags of flesh shaped vaguely like humans.

A closed chamber stood on the far side of the room with a heavy metal vault door hiding the contents within. A single desktop computer sat next to the chamber, along with a microphone and tape recorder.

I stopped as I came across a relatively healthy looking human specimen.

"Holy shit...Dagger, is that..." I fiddled with the eyepiece, zooming in on his face. I heard a gasp from Val as I did this.

"Jonathan Murphy, the sophomore who went missing last spring." said Dagger.

"Well, looks like we've got ourselves one missing persons lead at least" I responded. "We have to get him out of here."

I began to channel my ability, and what I felt stopped me cold.

The pod was made out of an unnaturally dense polymer ceramic composite. There was hardly any space between the folds to expand my barriers. Just what the hell had I gotten myself into?

Noticing a USB slot on the side of each of the pods, I walked up to Jon's pod and put Dagger's flash drive inside.

"I'm going to snoop around a little more alright? See what you can make of this."

Now let's see what else I can learn while I'm here.

My eyes swept the room before landing on the desktop computer I'd spotted earlier.

I walked over to the computer, and switched it on.

Windows 7 huh?

Turning the power off, I rebooted it into start-up repair and launched the repair tool. I went into the files, editing the CLI to activate on the log-in screen. A couple of minutes later, I had bypassed the user login and began searching through the files.

Sitting right there on the desktop, there was a folder that said "experimentLG." I clicked it, revealing a small collection of audio files.

Jackpot.

I hit play on the first file, and a woman's voice resonated throughout the room.

-ooo-

Begin log: 11.23.13 10:09 p.m EST

Today, I quit and was NOT fired from my research position at Columbia's astrophysics department.

The directors and I had some disagreements about the practicality and safety of using the nearly discovered Sigma-Omicron waves as a radiation and particle emission shield.

Namely, I was right and they were not. They foolishly insisted that I was not ready for such an undertaking, which is precisely why I will be setting up my own experimental facility after finishing this recording. I have heard the Heavenly Sons will pay scientists handsomely for any Scion-related discoveries.

End log.

-ooo-

Begin log: 4.05.14, 5:46am EST.

Everything is ready. The equipment to capture and measure O-waves was installed without any-

[Prolonged yawn].

Hang on. Where did I put the stims?

[Brief rummaging sounds followed by silence and a sharp inhale]

Alright, time to begin the first test. Jane Doe, my unfortunate subject, should be arriving shortly, at which point I can finally start. Regardless of the outcome, this is going to be enlightening.

End log.

-ooo-

Begin log: 4.06.14 3:17pm EST.

This is absolutely amazing! I had initially generated the O-waves to see if they would interfere with incoming radiation. However, when combined with high levels of gamma radiation, the Omicron-Sigma caused the subject to glow with an intense brightness. She appeared to have gained superhuman strength, denting the containment cell before rapidly expiring.

I must investigate further.

End log.

-ooo-

Begin log: 6.15.14, 6:30am EST.

Round one of Frequency 227 of O-wave exposure. Pretty simple. Won't take much more thought or input on my part beyond what it would require to heat up a Hot Pocket. And, in a way, that is an apt description of what I'm doing. Subject is locked into the chamber and all systems are go. We are ready to begin.

End log.

-ooo-

Begin log: 6.15.14, 6:51am EST. After the first bout of exposure the subject seems to be the same as he was upon entry. Disappointing, but at least this one shows promise unlike the others. Meanwhile, my nerves are completely shot. I've been tripping all over myself and twitching randomly since I stopped the emitters. Nothing I'm not used to, though. I need to get the rest of my amphetamine stash from the facility at some point. Probably the rest of my tech, too. I don't trust them with my masterpieces.

[Sigh]

Sending the subject back into the chamber for more rounds of testing.

End log.

-ooo-

Begin log: 8.06.14, 8:45pm EST.

My twitching has gotten worse but I believe I've figured out the cause. After the last test, the subject was looking directly at me and making subtle hand gestures when I tripped. Unsure if this is an innate ability possessed by the subject that manifested after O-wave exposure or if the O-wave exposure created the power from nothing. More exposure will be needed to confirm. Note: the subject's speech is becoming slow and more measured and he no longer seems to speak unless spoken to. I might be interested if I were a psychologist.

Too bad, I'm a real scientist.

End log.

-ooo-

Begin log: 8.17.14, 3:23am.

Test 21 yielded actual results. Upon opening the chamber, the subject was nowhere to be found, which was worrisome. I knew his complete disappearance wasn't among the possible outcomes, though, so I went to watch the tapes to see what happened.

[Deep breath]

Nothing happened. The recording just showed the subject sitting calmly in the chamber even after I came in and saw no one there. I went back and confronted the subject who promptly reappeared and acted clueless. What a jackass.

I can push this just a little bit further, I know it!

End log.

-ooo-

Begin log: 8.17.14, 7:00am.

This test is what I've been ceaselessly working towards for the last three days. Having confirmed that O-waves themselves pose.. negligible risk to humans, it's time to see how O-waves work as a shield against solar radiation. I will be recording this experiment in real time due to its significance. Subject is locked in and ready. Beginning test in three.. two.. one.. mark.

[Electrical whirring, followed by silence, interrupted by screams of agony]

Shit. Shit shit shit. Not again! I was so close!

[Rummaging sounds, then the whirring stops].

Fuck!

[Screams continue]

Subject seems to be in distress of some sort. Approaching the chamber to check on the subject now.  
[Creaking metal sound, followed by brief silence]

...Are you invisible again, jackass?

[More silence]

Subject is not visible inside the chamb- oh.

What the fuck?

The subject is standing outside of the chamber across the room and facing away from me. Teleportation?

Damn, I'm fucking good.

[Rapid footsteps]

Subject is still being a silent shit. Hey, hey!

[Sizzling sound and gasp, then muted whimpering]

Oh, oh.. the.. um.. the subject is.. dust-like in texture. Oh what, he's behind me?

Motherfucker.

End log.

-ooo-

Begin log: 8.17.14, 10:10am. So here's what we've learned.

1\. John Doe #11 is an asshole.

2\. John Doe is an asshole who is capable of doing some intriguing things.

3\. The subject has become somewhat unhinged and delirious, and had to be subdued by security personnel when he manifested his powers.

Here's what the subject has displayed so far.

The ability to shock nervous systems from up to 125 feet away, including the ability to induce twitches and muscle spasms with a very strong impulse.

Second, the ability to make himself and up to three others invisible to human perception for up to four minutes at a time, though can still be perceived on camera.

Third, he has remarkable accuracy when throwing things at targets. Subject displayed this aptitude when I saw him playing darts with my pen and a bulletin on the other side of the lab, hitting the same spot every time.

Not sure if this was an existing talent or if the O-waves augmented it somehow because, as noted previously, the subject is an assclown and will not tell me.

Finally, the subject is capable of creating a temporary copy of himself that cannot move or speak but is convincing until touched, at which point the copy will dissolve into white ash.

This concludes the first successful execution of Project Omicron-Sigma. The subjects will be prepared for shipment at the end of the month.

End log.

-ooo-

"Dear god..., this woman is a complete fucking psychopath" I whispered.

Suddenly, a multitude of alarms began to blare out, and I felt the three wandering metal signatures stop.

 _"Breach in Omega Sector, breach in Omega sector"_ a monotone, robotic voice began to drone.

The signatures began to move towards me.

"What the hell?" I exclaimed.

"Sorry, tripped up some security protocols, can you hang on a minute? I'm going to get this guy out of there in like, five minutes. Just distract our new friends for a bit" Dagger breathed, tapping furiosly at her keyboard.

Wonderful, caught underground with no easy way out and a security team barreling down my neck.

-ooo-

Funny thing about how human beings work.

We're notoriously bad at looking up.

Before the first guard could run in through the main door, I activated my power, latching myself to the ceiling above it, a good forty feet above the ground. The first guard must have been pretty green at the job, rushing in before either of the two other guards could arrive.

I took my chance, and kicked off the ceiling with a bit of a constant pull to slow my momentum. I landed on his back feet first, crumpling him to the ground feet first. Before he could recover from the hit, I quickly put him in a rear naked choke, pushing back with my power to drag him behind a pod. The carotid compression and whiplash would put him out cold.

"Dagger I appreciate you and all, but if you don't get him out in the next fifteen seconds or so I'm going to have to bail, hard."

I could feel five more knives or pistols entering my steel sense range, they moved in a group this time, there was no way I could get the literal drop on them as I did Guard #1.

"Okay okay I got it! The pod is unlocked, get him out!"

I zoomed over, forcing the pod open with a grunt of effort. Jon was a pretty tall guy with a medium, chubby build, standing at a solid 6' or 6'1. Just by eyeballing him, I estimated that he weighed about 200 pounds. Getting him out was not going to be easy.

 _In for a penny, in for a pound_ I thought as I picked him up in a fireman carry.

 _"Project parameters have been breached, beginning purge of all project data parameters. Sterilization team Delta has been deployed, all personnel must evacuate before the decontamination occurs."_

I did NOT like the sound of that

Kicking off with my power, I made a beeline for the bathroom I had wrecked coming in, right as a squad of five guards dashed in and shot me in the back.

I threw up barrier after barrier behind me as the bullets caused them to fracture and break one after another. Taking a sharp turn, I threw all subtlety out the air as I pushed up through the hole I made, shredding the piping above me, causing them to fall down around me. I held my breath as I jumped through and hoped nothing too caustic would spew out.

My gambit was rewarded as a cloud of white steam poured out, obfuscating the way between the guards and my exposed back as I landed in a half squat. Dammit Jon did you have to be so goddamn heavy?

"Duck!" my comm crackled.

I obliged as well as I could with a full grown man on my back, leaning to the side to let him roll on the ground. A night stick sailed over my head as I tossed Jon aside, and I pushed myself to the side with my power to get some space.

Two guards awaited me at the top of the hole, looks like I wasn't as subtle as I thought.

"Alex, we've got a problem."

The guards and I squared off for a second before one rushed at me with an overhead swing using his night stick. His friend moved to the side, trying to flank me from the left with a knife as I stepped back.

"Alex."

I projected a barrier in the path of knife guy's running thrust and stepped in as he recoiled. Throwing out my forearm out against his neck and controlling his wrist with my other hand, I used my power to spin him in the path of Guard A's night stick, which cracked him on the back of the head. Dropping the concussed guard, I threw out a snap kick and a jab, pulling him into a clinch. We began to push on each other, fighting for dominance.

"Alex!"

"Little busy right now, Dag." I said with my teeth clenched, fighting him for dominance in the clinch.

"My power is going nuts, you have to get out of there, NOW! Something's coming!"

Feeling his weight shift to the side ever so slightly, I stepped in, _pulling_ on the wall to the side to add to my momentum. I hooked my right leg on the inside of his left leg and kicked out, disrupting his balance as I used my power to spin in the opposite direction and reap his other leg out before he could react. I slammed him hard on the ground, before letting out a left soccer leg which left him in a dazed heap.

I rushed up to Jon and scooped him on my back, feeling

"Hurry, I'm not kidding aro-" she paused.

"Dagger?"

"They're here."

Well, that sounded ominous.

I crouched, preparing to make my escape with Jon - with any luck, this would be a clean getaway. Even with a heavy load on my back I could move very quickly and efficiently across the rooftops and would lose any pursuers.

The next thing I knew, the floor began to tremor, and I stumbled with the weight of the large sophomore on my back. Not wanting to take any chances, I quick jumped through the window I was standing in front of, slowing my descent off a mailbox as I dropped myself to the ground.

The building exploded.

I was four feet off the ground, and the force of the sudden explosion dropped me into a tumble, dropping Jon as I rolled across the ground. I landed next to the small set of stairs leading up to the front entrance.

My head spun, pounding from the sudden shock of the explosion, and I grunted dizzily as I got up and coughed, feeling smoke entering my lungs. Fire filled the building as an explosion chain moved up and caused the rooftop to explode as well.

I groaned when I realized my new kinda-sorta ironic black trenchcoat had been shredded pretty badly by the shrapnel.

"Holy shit, are you alright?!" Dagger yelled into my ear.

"Peachy...I'll be fine after an hour or two with a tweezer and a needle, any more surprises?" I deadpanned.

"My power hasn't stopped going off, the warnings it's been giving me are growing stronger by the sec-JUMP!"

Not even hesitating for a thought, I pushed up with my power, then yanked myself towards a lamp post behind me with it.

Right where I had been setting a second ago, a purple ball of some crystalline glob hit the ground, erupting into a ball of spikes that pierced right through the concrete steps and sliced the railing apart.

I gaped for a second, and the next thing I knew a foot came out of nowhere, landing straight into my jaw, I pulled on the right even as I felt my brain slosh in my head, and I threw a blind shield out as I felt one of my assailants' combat knife lash out towards my chest.

*Crack*

I opened my eyes, regaining my bearing as my shield no doubt caused the blurry figure to recoil.

My vision cleared, and I could see it was a woman in a full wetsuit who wore a blank white mask.

She turned towards me, flourishing two knives and taking a combat stance.

"Dodge to the side, now!" Dagger barked out.

I obliged, leaping to the side with my power as another ball of crystal landed where I was, literally glassing the floor I was standing on.

 _I'm out of the sniper's line of sight now, which gives me a good shot of shaking or disabling this woman. She's good but I already know I'm better at hand to hand._

I squared off with her for a second, taking the moment to get my bearings from the ambu-

*Flash*

Huh what was I doin- I lashed out with a spinning backfist instinctively, catching the woman across the no-

*Flash*

I stumbled from a hit of some sort, turning to sweep the-

*Flash*

"-lex"

*Flash*

Kneeing her in the solar pl-

*Flash*

Twist wrist, use my greater weight and str-

*Flash*

A purple explosion, I dashed under scaffolding, hol-

*Flash*

"Some sort of mental att-"

*Flash*

The woman in the wetsuit circled to cut me off with her knife under the scaffolding with cat-like grace as I held her knife in a reverse grip.

I blinked, thinking clearly for the first time in a good minute or so.

"Dagger? Any idea what the hell that was?"

"Whoever the hell the third assailant is, he or she can induce total working memory loss a few seconds after activating it. From the way you were reacting it seems to activate in spurts" Dagger explained as calmly as she could. "You gave me a scare there before I figured out what was going on. Thank god you got out of their line of attack."

Okay Alex, you knew the whole superpowered villain thing would start becoming more frequent as time went on, but multiple superpowered enemies after eating an explosion to the back and a sucker punch? Things have gotten out of control pretty damn fast.

The woman hadn't exhibited any signs of superpowers yet, in the lingering flashes of our exchange I still had in my memory. I wasn't going to chance it though, too many unknowns.

She lunged, certain I couldn't maneuver around with my power and I surprised her, stepping into the path of her dash. I shielded her knife, taking the edge out of the stab and grabbed it. I slashed up her arm with the knife I had taken from her before, severing her forearm tendon.

I reversed the motion, stabbing into her right knee, causing her to buckle. In one fluid motion, I looped around to grab her behind the waist with both arms. Leaning back, I pulled up towards the scaffolding with my power and flipped back, letting gravity take over.

We landed in a picturesque German suplex, and I felt a crack behind me for my trouble.

I hadn't ever killed before, but I couldn't afford to play nice when they were gunning for my head. Hopefully she'd just have to eat out of a straw for a while.

My assailant flopped around in a ragdoll motion, landing on her stomach with a thud, hopefully out of the fight for good. I picked up her other knife, and stared out towards the plaza. I could see Jon still passed out on the ground completely ignored through the battle around us.

I could make that distance in a single jump and attempt to make my escape, but I had no idea how many of them were out there.

Fuck it, damned if I do, damned if I don't.

I jumped, grabbing for Jon as another large purple glob land landed in a splash behind me, this time crackling with a purple flame as I felt the heat lick behind me. I scooped my arms beneath his neck and knees and yanked him up, then jumped towards the hedges at the side of the building.

"Alex, I feel something coming, be careful!"

How could this possibly get any wor-

My jump was halted as I crashed straight into a person who wasn't there before, dropping Jon again as the figure landed on top of me in a perfect grappling mount. I looked up and saw that it was the woman with the wetsuit and white mask.

Pain bloomed from my stomach as I felt a sharp object stab into it and I tried to scream out in pain. My scream of agony was muffled as she put her hand over my mouth.

"No, NO! NO NO NO!" Dagger screeched.

The agony intensified as she twisted her knife then stabbed into me again, and again. She dragged the blade of her knife across my throat, leaving nothing to chance. I gurgled, gasping for breath as she raised the knife with both hands, aiming it at my sternum.

Everything seemed to slow to a crawl as she plunged it down, directly at my heart.

-ooo-

Before I knew it, I was fifteen feet away, throat gurgling and staring in a state of shock as the woman stabbed down at my body. A perfect body clone of me gasped for breath, then went still as the knife stabbed into his heart. I gagged, slumping against the hedge and spitting out blood as the nasty gash across my throat slowly closed.

Looking down, I was a little more than slightly unnerved and in a shitload of pain as my intestines slowly stitched themselves together before my eyes. At the rate it was going, it was going to take too long for anything more than a shallow wound like the ones.

The woman stood up, stared straight through me, then spoke into a transceiver.

"Our little spook has been terminated, looks like we won't have to worry about Noble in our future plans. Man that fucker hit like a truck, I can still feel my head ringing, even through the connection."

She looked up towards the sky at a nearby building.

"Erosion, dispose of the evidence."

A purple blob arced slowly arced through the air and landed on my 'corpse', bursting into flame after a few seconds. As promptly as it had appeared, the flames disappeared in a puff of purple smoke and disappeared, leaving an unblemished sidewalk behind.

It looked like some sort of self-igniting napalm jelly that could also expand out for greater area damage.

She walked over and picked up Jon's body, draping him across her back with a grunt of effort.

I stood up, holding up a knife as my hands trembled. My mind was still in shock over how close I had been to death. Should I attack while her guard was down? Escape while I can?

My choice was made for me as a copy of her knife zipped by, landing directly in the back of her brain stem. The "Jon" that fell on top of her rapidly disintegrated into white dust.

"Don't even think about it, you had no fucking idea what she can do, and that almost got you killed a second ago" a voice spoke behind me.

I turned around towards the voice. It was see Jonathan Murphy in all his bruised up glory, holding a single hand over his swollen black eye.

"Come on, let's use those fancy jumping powers of yours and dip while we still can. I only have two more uses of my power at most."

I nodded numbly, reaching out to grasp his hand.

"Alright man, hang on tight."


	4. Genesis 1-4

**Disclaimer:** Worm is the property of Wildbow, I do not claim to own any of his ideas or characters. I do hope I'll be able to write something as awesome as Worm in the future though =) _  
_

* * *

 _"...Thank you Melissa, this is Katie Gonzalez from New York One, I'm here at Gunther Schumann Research Institute where late in the evening, a major superpowered battle broke out between multiple unknown combatants..."_

I stood in the relatively sparse commuter lounge, bent over a table trying to get my laptop connected onto the local WiFi network. Occasionally I would peer over at the large TV against the wall which was set to a local news channel. There were small groups of people chattering across the room.

I sipped my morning tea while fiddling around with the network settings on my laptop.

I sank down in the couch I had pulled up, getting comfortable in my NYU hoodie and track pants.

After a while, I finally got my connection working and I began to look for details on the incident from last night.

A building had exploded in the upper west side last night, and there were all sorts of fuzzy cell phone video pictures being uploaded to the internet of a two minute long skirmish.

No-one had been stupid enough to get close to the battle for better footage. It was a mixed blessing, no civilians had been reported injured in the battle, but I had a desire to learn more about the first major New York cape battle.

Whatever caused that battle, it was a terrible portent for things to come.

I paused on a minute long clip, zooming in at a blurry figure engaged in a brawl with a woman wearing a white mask. He jumped out of the way of a purple projectile that came from down the block and ducked under some scaffolding, apparently dazed out of his mind.

The cape was between 5'10 to 6' tall, wore a ski mask, an eyepiece, and had superhumanly powerful jumps.

Noble.

I watched as he jumped out from the scaffolding he was taking cover, making a lightning fast jump across the street. He crashed into the pale masked woman who had appeared out of nowhere, flooring him. I couldn't be sure what happened then - the recorder didn't have an angle to catch the finer details on their struggle, but I could see a figure hiding in the ledge beyond staring at the fight in horrified fascination.

Moments later, she nonchalantly stood up and walked diagonally towards the camera's direction, stopping briefly to talk into a walkie-talkie.

A purple projectile landed behind her from the roofs, causing a purple flame to rush up. My stomach filled with a sense of dread as I realized I had probably just witnessed someone dying.

Suddenly, the woman stumbled forward and the video cut off.

I looked for more information on Noble, pulling up a speculative "Capewatch" site. The site claimed to be the most comprehensive website on the internet for the new superhuman phenomenon, and had a directory much like PHO did on Earth Bet although much smaller for obvious reasons.

I searched for Noble's profile, pulling up a profile chronicled by the users.

Noble had been one of the earliest capes documented on Earth Samek, starting off as nothing but a whisper in the night, an urban myth in New York's underworld in the early months following Gold Morning.

He had gone around the city taking down petty street gangs, leaving them wrapped up in neat packages for the NYPD.

Almost every gang that had been questioned in custody had insisted they were beaten down and tied up by a "Leaping Man." The mysterious individual, according to their accounts, could hop entire city blocks in a blink. He also had a large amount of skill in close quarters combat, disabling entire gang chapters non-lethally.

No-one had been certain if he really existed or if he was a hoax until he announced himself in the most spectacular way.

During an mayoral speech in June, he hijacked the local news feeds to point to a dark room where he had tied up Lenny "Handsome" Giordano, the Don of the Moratti crime family.

He proclaimed that he would be targeting all the "scum" in this city and that he was done bringing in the petty gangs only to see them replaced by fresh waves of new blood constantly. Minutes later, he had uploaded damning accounting details to every police-owned computer in the city that connected the mayor to the Moratti syndicate, forcing him to resign.

To top things off, most of the Moratti syndicate's assets had all been immediately rerouted and distributed across North America's major charities, destroying the organization in one fell swoop.

Noble was at the very least a vigilante independent hero, and one of the world's more experiencedones at that.

I choked a little when the harshness and gravity of last night's skirmish dawned on me.

I spent a while looking through information people had on Noble before I decided to look for other known capes in New York City.

There was Phaser, a cape I had already seen on film who didn't appear to be any more threatening than a typical robber with a gun. He had taken to terrorizing Harlem in the last month, and his power functioned like a long-range stun gun with multiple modes of power and accuracy. His power allowed him to non-lethally incapacitate officers from a distance and create exits to dodge through city streets with.

Then there was a petty thief and vlogger that recently landed on Capewatch's radar, who kind of reminded me of Uber and Leet. He wore a campy yellow costume and called himself "Impulse." Impulse was capable of running five or six times as fast as a normal human while spitting in the face of the laws of inertia and turning physics. he had taken to a habit of setting up rows of cameras, running through entire blocks of stores in a minute while taunting the police with vicious mockery as he ran through the stores robbing thousands of dollars' worth of goods as he ran.

Two villains at the least not to mention the villain team that had likely assassinated Noble last night. I continued searching, looking for more "cape sightings" or incidents of interest.

Antares and Atropos, a pair of capes that have recently begun to put on staged hero versus villain plays in a stage Antares had set up, kind of like professional wrestling with superpowers. Antares could greatly accelerate entropy from a distance, and Atropos could disintegrate inorganic material up to the density of steel.

Both were roughly in their mid-late 20s or early 30s, and used their powers to create ludicrously colorful special effects lightshows chemicals. They had set up a cheesy, professional wrestling theater with superpowers nearby.

"Oh hey, it's you again! What's up Taylor?" I looked to the side to see the back entrance of the lounge opening.

The boy from yesterday walked in.

"Hello Alex, I'm just continuing my Cape research from yesterday. My apartment doesn't have internet yet" I responded.

He was wearing an NYU hoodie today, along with sweat pants and a pair of weightlifting shoes.

 _Is it me or does he look a bit thinner?_

"Hahaha, looks like we're both taking it easy and showing some school spirit today" he joked upon noticing my matching attire.

"It's great to see a kindred spirit" he continued, "a lot of the students here act like being caught out in casual sports wear is the end of the world sometimes you know?"

I glanced at his eyebrows and hair, they were visibly singed.

"What happened up there?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Erm, I had a cooking accident while caramelizing sugar, almost got set on fire too!" he chuckled while scratching his head sheepishly.

"So, find anything interesting yet Taylor?" he pulled up a chair next to me, looking over at my screen.

"Two petty thieves, two wannabe professional wrestlers, and one potentially dead vigilante," I pointed at the reporter and burned out husk of a building on the TV screen to emphasize the last point.

He winced, flinching as the channel replayed the CCTV footage at the moment the research institute exploded.

"Absolutely nothing on people throwing balls of purple slime that turn into spikes, teleporting women in faceless masks, or any powers that might make a building go up in flames like that" I continued. "Then again, the building exploding looks like it might have been a controlled detonation."

"Man, you've really put some thought into this haven't you? he said, turning to face me.

"...You wouldn't happen to know anyone with superpowers would you?" Alex winked.

I paused.

The temperature of the room palpably dropped and I made eye contact with a half-lidded glare I could barely control.

"Yeah...I used to know someone with...powers" I muttered "...I don't want to talk about it."

He balked a little, flinching away from my glare. There was a moment of silence between us as Alex slapped himself in the forehead and pinched his nose with his fingers.

Real smooth Taylor, this is exactly how we go about making friends, with a friendly guy going who'd gone out of his way to be empathetic no less.

I sipped my tea, feeling my nerves calm down a little more. What a perfect start to my college experience.

"Well shit, real smooth Alex, way to put your foot in your mouth again!" he berated himself. "Ask the girl with Scion trauma about superpowers!"

"Sorry, it...it really isn't that big of a deal, it just brought up some bad memories." I apologized.

"And I'm sorry for being an insensitive prick about it, twice."

"Hey, I'll make this up to you... I know you're new in town, do you want to check out some of the eateries nearby for lunch? There are some killer places a couple of blocks away at St. Mark's place, on me this time."

I mulled over it for a second. It had been nearly two years since I had any real friends my age.

I missed my friends from Earth Bet unbelievably, more than I could put into words.

Brian, Theo, Lily, Sabah, Bitch, Aisha, Lisa, all of them.

I really wondered how they're doing at times, but I had to try to move on sometime.

"You know what? I'll take you up on it."

* * *

"So, you're from the northeast huh?"

Alex had realized he needed to pick up a book today, and it was still a bit early for lunch. We were taking a detour to a Barnes and Noble, and we had been talking about our backgrounds.

There was a man dressed in pastor's clothes, picketing around the corner with a bible.

"The end is nigh! The signs are in the skies! The son of god has come again, as a thief and destroyer in the night, for those who were unworthy. Those who waited in faith were spared, so repent! Repent before he arrives again, with the worthy which every eye will see!"

We walked down the street, ignoring the doomsayer ranting about Scion's impending return.

I knew for a fact that he wouldn't be coming back, I had seen to it myself.

"Yeah, I'm from a small city called Brockton Bay." I responded. "Scion wiped it off the map. He gave me this in the process." I pointed to my prosthetic arm.

He nodded, walking in silence for a few seconds before responding.

"Yeah...I kind of understand, I was there at ground zero, you know? I was inches from losing my leg myself. Scion dropped a building on me the minute he'd shown up, and I had only escaped being crushed by inches. The debris ricochet gave me a couple of nasty cuts but I can't even compare that to losing an arm."

Now that was a surprise, Alex was a Golden Morning survivor?

He continued. "I still have nightmares about it sometimes you know? The crazed, maniacal cackling as he murdered us by the thousands."

We walked into the store and headed up the escalators. He took out a bunch of books from the programming and business sections and sat us down by the coffee shop, picking through the large pile.

"I lost a lot of my friends that day." I responded. "A few of them made it out, but all the ones I was closest to...all dead."

It was like a dam broke, I gave him an abridged, edited version of the events in my adolescence.

I told him about how I had been a reasonably bright teenager with vicious bullying problems before falling in with the wrong crowd. I told him about how I had worked for two years in public service to repent for what I had done in my brief stint in a gang, how I had worked so hard to atone for myself in an internship with the "police."

I told him I had a promising, budding career, the potential to be better than ever before. Then Scion came and literally incinerated everything I had to my name, right before my eyes and setting me back below square one.

"I'm sorry, Taylor." he gave me an apologetic look, "Is this the first time you've had a chance to talk about it with a peer since...Scion?"

"Yeah...a whole year, weighing down on me. Sorry for snapping at you like that by the way."

"Seriously, it's no big. I came damn close to being turned into a pile of mashed potatoes myself. I understand." he put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a cheesy thumbs up.

I still felt a little downcast, but it was undeniable that I felt a lot better than I did that I had gotten a bit off my chest, albeit in an embellished manner. I looked out over the balcony to the crowds of people walking on the streets and shopping below.

My gaze halted on a man.

Nobody else paid the man any heed, but I knew there was something different about him immediately. He wore a black business suit with a pink shirt underneath, no tie. He was tall and lean, and wore a pair of sunglasses off his wrist. He smiled as he put them on, then he raised a hand and pointed his open palm open a passing woman.

A thin, green beam of ray shot out, then again and again, scanning her up and down. The woman was struck rapidly by the green rays, causing her to vaporize into dust. However, her clothes, earrings, and wedding didn't dissolve, and hit the floor with assorted *thuds* and *pings* I could hear over the chatter. Her skeleton fell forward, clattering to the floor.

The building fell silent and the people who noticed fell silent, staring in horror.

The screaming began.

My vision and hearing blurred as I saw the cape smiling with a Cheshire grin, leering as he pointed both hands at people passing and trying to run, reducing them to ash and bones one after one. The sun glared in the back and the wintery green scent of floor wafted up as piercing shouts of terror rang out and people stampeded for the doors, only to be cut down in swathes as they ran at him. I could numbly feel Alex trying to say something to me as I watched the horror unfold.

"-lor."

A few people near the doors escaped, but just about anyone trying to run that way through the books was picked off gleefully by the cape, as if he were keeping track of his score in a video game.

" _TAYLOR!_ "

A hand clasped my shoulder and brown almond eyes gazed at me with pure intensity as Alex shook me.

Alex had crouched down under the table and was trying to pull me down to keep me out of the cape's sight, but I was still in a numb state of shock.

My heart clenched as he pointed across the balcony, pivoting and killing people trying to make it to the fire escape at me while I sat there, and I felt a sharp spike of terror as he pointed directly at me. A skull landed on our desk, then the body bounced off, spraying ash as it clattered to the floor. The cape had incinerated a security guard trying to draw his pistol on him.

He turned to the counter, then laughed as he raised his hand.

" _Taylor, get the fuck down_." he hissedd with urgency, pulling me down as the cape killed the cashiers frantically trying to dial for the police one by one. Alex pulled some sort of device out of his back pocket and clicked it.

The room grew still as the customers and employees alike realized trying to run past him was a terrible idea. The cape stood still at the center of the entrance hall, with bits of shredded books and papers lazily floating down through the air. There were dozens of piles of bone and black ash scattered on the floor around him.

"Taylor, I need you to stay low, out of sight, and get the cops here as soon as you can, alright? You should be able to get to the bathroom quietly." Alex handed me his phone, before crawling behind a book shelf that had vision of the floor below. He studied the cape intently.

I had forgotten how _helpless_ it felt to face off against a cape with lethal powers with no back-up, hoping that the Protectorate would arrive on time.

Unfortunately, there was no Protectorate to wait for in this world.

"Good morning New York!" the cape finally announced "You can call me Deathray, it isn't the the most original or clever of names, but I think you will all find it quite _memorable_!"

His voice was eerily jovial and amiable.

He began to walk forward.

"I had a thought this morning you know," his voice echoed. "I was just having myself a good cup of tea, and it hit me...Deathray, why oh why were you going to rob the Harry Winston jewelry store today?"

He lazily shot out two more bursts at the entrance. Two police officers that had been patrolling nearby and had come in to investigate. The first officer was vaporized, their badges, belts, guns, and bones hitting the ground. The second burst missed, and the officer tried to duck for cover as more rays shot at his direction. The bursts bounced off a metal desk, shattering the glass roof before he was caught by a third ray and 'scanned' to dust from head to toe.

I turned to Alex, and noticed him staring at Deathray intently, jaw clenched.

"I've been planning a robbery for weeks, you know?" Death ray continued to monologue. "All the nitty gritty details - the defenses, guards, the police response time, but this thought only struck me this morning! Why rob a jewelry store when I can take anything I want anyway!"

He approached the counter, and a living cashier screamed, shrinking back. Deathray slammed open the counter as she cowered, huddled on the floor.

"This is all worthless, _absolutely, utterly,_ worthless." He opened his hand, and the girl screamed in agony as the green rays scattered on _something_ , flaying her alive and turning her into hamburger meat. Another burst, and she was shredded into ash.

 _What was that?_

"All of this is useless! USELESS, USELESS, USELESS!" he ripped out the contents and spilled them on the ground. "Robbing stores would get me money, but I don't need to buy _anything_ if I can take it!"

Deathray brushed himself off as the people near him croaked, sobbed, and whimpered at the brutal execution.

A child whimpered and sobbed on the floor near us, her father tried frantically trying to hush her.

"D-daddy...where are the heroes, you said there would be heroes to r-r-rescue u-us! _"_

I grimaced, despair falling on me as I realized how utterly terrible the situation was. No, no swarms of bugs, no back-up, no Protectorate.  
This was in all earnest, my worst fears about capes on Samek come true.

Suddenly, Alex side-stepped against the wall and gently hopped, landing in a crouch in front of the crying girl.

"Hey kid." Alex said, pausing to carefully mull over his words even as she sobbed.

"Sometimes, we have to step up and be the real heroes, you know? Help push the others along." He gave her a warm smile, causing her to stop and stare at him with wide eyes.

"Everything will be fine, kiddo, be brave for your dad and me."

He stood up with his back turned to me, and spoke.

"Taylor? I'm about to do something incredibly stupid. Dial for help as soon as possible if this doesn't work out."

Before I could respond, Alex dashed to the back of the cafe, surprisingly quiet and nimble for a guy of his size. He grabbed a metal lid from the garbage can and vaulted over the back railing, dropping behind the escalator and out of sight.

Never-mind that it was a easily a twenty feet drop.

A couple of seconds later, Alex had darted out to the first floor bookshelves near Deathray.

I gazed on, feeling as if I were watching a primal dance as Alex nimbly darted between the bookshelves between Deathray's movements, slowly getting closer as he continued his psychopathic monologue.

"Robbing a bank? A jewelry store? Awfully inconvenient to get what I want. What I needed to do was to put the _fear_ in everyone's hearts, show them how powerful I am. That way nobody would dare deny me the things I want to take!"

He leaped towards a book shelf a man was hiding behind, getting a startling rise out of a man huddled behind the shelf who was holding his infant child.

I could see Alex, three shelves behind Deathray and crouched, preparing to charge with nothing but a garbage lid for a shield.

In that moment, a switch had been flipped.

I was no longer Taylor Harris, the lonely, battle scarred shell-shocked veteran of the Golden Morning.

I wasn't Weaver, field commander of dozens of Protectorate excursions at Dragon's side.

Nor was I Skitter, ruthless but well-meaning warlord of the Brockton Bay Docks.

I was simply Taylor Hebert, a girl who had originally donned a costume because she had wanted to be a hero, to help those in need when none would be willing to help her.

I closed my eyes and focused.

At the peak of my arthropod control, I could literally call upon a theoretically infinite number of insects, swarming and overwhelming my enemies with sheer numbers.

Now? If I concentrated hard enough, I could gain control over half a dozen flies with perfect focus, max.

So I reached out, feeling the presence of a dozen flies in the room. I pulled one of the flies out of the air near Deathray and landed it on his head. Then another, and another.

I dived, rolling for the pistol with one arm. Deathray spun around, hearing my movement and raised his hand to fire at me. I heard a cry of pain as Alex rammed him head on with the garbage lid, causing his shot to go wide.

I landed in a crouch, stuck my hand through the railing, and squeezed the trigger rapidly while standing up.

* * *

The room was deathly silent as I slowly opened my eyes.

Deathray was flat on the ground, his face frozen in a twisted moment of shock as Alex stood over him. Alex panted in a pace to match my own adrenaline-fueled breathing as he stood up from his shoulder tackle.

The people in the room stayed silent, as if trying to wrap their heads around what had just happened.

Five bullet holes filled out a neat cluster at the center of Deathray's forehead, and the floor nearby was splattered with chunks of brain matter.

Alex led his lid drop to the ground, and looked down silently.

The crowd began to cheer, whistling and clapping for the two NYU students that had saved them from a murderous supervillain.

In the midst of all the commotion, I noticed a small pool of water forming beneath Alex's feet, dripping from his face.

 _Is he crying?_


	5. Genesis 1-5

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Worm, Wildbow does =)

Thanks for the reviews everyone, I think this is the smoothest chapter I've pumped out yet. Enjoy!

**Update* I've gone back and cleaned up the earlier chapters a little. Please read and review!

* * *

She'd been baptized Madeline Alexis McCoy in St. Ann's Catholic Church, in a quiet suburb in Queens, on a snowy day in February, 1988. Growing up in the neighborhood, everyone knew her as Maddie McCoy, the only daughter of Precinct Captain Peter McCoy.

However, from the day she'd solved the 'Bayside Butcher' case in 2012 - her third year on the force as a junior detective, nobody called her anything but 'Mad Dog' McCoy - not the brass, not her fellow detectives, not even the press. The case had given her a fast track from Rookie to Detective-Investigator, Second Grade, and she was well on her way to becoming the youngest Inspector in the department.

She picked up her cup of cold coffee, and opened the file. On the upper right hand was a tab, printed with the word 'unidentified'.

Of the eleven dead bodies, two had been found in London, then two in Boston, three in Long Island, and now four in Manhattan.  
The victims had a relatively even gender ratio of 5 females and 6 males, and their ages ranged from nineteen to sixty one. All of them had been drugged with an unknown substance, and then had their heads surgically removed at the exact same spot. The killings had occurred from December 2009 to this July, and seemed completely random.

However, they were too similar to be coincidental. Other than that, the other circumstances were completely dissimilar. None of the victims were related or appeared to have known one another. None had led violent lives or been on record for committing crimes, other than Samuel Jones. All the victims had been from different economic backgrounds.

In most serial murder cases with high profile modus operandis, a murder victim is at the least identified, and the murderer is found after he eventually makes a mistake. In these nine cases, not a single suspected had been uncovered. Interpol and Scotland Yard's murder investigation bureau had gotten involved, and still turned up zero. The only connection the victims seemed to have was the surgical removal of their heads, something that appeared to have been done either by a surgeon or someone with surgical training and access to the necessary tools. This was more confounding and curious than anything Maddie had ever heard of.

Maddie got out of her car, and began to survey the area.

There was a woman splayed out against a wall next to a dumpster in Hell's Kitchen, where her head had been surgically removed and remains crucified in a crude mockery of a religious effigy. Her clothes were mostly ripped off, a rape victim. Maddie cursed to herself as her partner Kevin Wilson ran out the alley and hurled in a trash can.

The woman was the second one to meet this fate, and there had been exactly zero DNA matches in any global databases.

One of her arms was bent at an odd angle, and there were cuts and bites going up her legs, across her bare chest, and over her stomach. A yellow, sticky material was all over her body and an even larger pool of yellow-tinted crimson pooled beneath her.

The large pool of human fluid reflected Maddie's stressed green eyes and freckled light-brown skin, betraying her mixed Irish-African ancestry.

She set about cordoning off the area. The blaring sirens signaled more units arriving at the scene, and Maddie knew this would be a long day.

In all the chaos, Maddie never noticed the distress beacon beeping on the seat of her car.

* * *

I stood there, staring down the barrel of my smoking gun as the survivors around us cheered. I leaned down and picked up my glasses, which had fallen off when I dived for the pistol.

Alex had sunk to one knee down below, and I promptly pocketed the pistol before rushing down the empty escalator to check on him.

"Alex?" I gently called out to him.

He turned around slowly, and I could see that his face was lightly streaked with tears.

"We stopped him, Taylor..."

Lying around in blackened bits were the remains of several dozen victims of Deathray's attack.

Alex stared down at the charred remains of a teenaged girl who had been disintegrated trying to escape, and he wept gently.

The lanky man who had been crouching by the bookshelf stood up, and wrapped us both in a hug. I jolted in surprise.

"T-thank you, I-I-I don't know how I would ever be able to repay you for saving my daughter," he stammered before letting go and scooping up his daughter.

I looked around the room, taking note that most of the crowd was still reeling from the shock of witnessing a super-powered massacre. Spectators who had fled the scene at the sight of the original massacre were now opening their phones up, prepared to record the chaos.

I grabbed Alex garbage can lid with my good arm, before dropping the makeshift shield on the ground.

"Come on, let's duck out before the press starts flocking in" I said, dragging him by the elbow out the back emergency exit.

* * *

We ran down the back alleys at a breakneck pace, swerving to navigate the turning corridors of the East Village. A few turns later, I stopped hard to avoid running straight into a fence.

"Okay, let's backtrack a little..." I said, turning to go down another path.

"Stop." Alex spoke behind me.

I stopped, and turned to see fiery brown eyes boring ahead into mine, filled with mistrust.

"I had a minute to think about it a little more while we were running..." he said, crossing his arms.

"Five perfect headshots, all in a tight cluster at the center of his forehead. This was done with a semi-automatic in a one handed long stance, on a moving target no less. A target who was stumbling back from being rammed by me, and jerking around from each of the previous shots."

"You also seem to be taking the fact that you just blew a guy's brains out in stride, although admittedly the guy was a goddamn sociopath."

He continued. "Look, I'm not going to pry, because I get that there's some shit in there you aren't ready to face yet, but I know there's more to you than meets the eye Taylor. You don't that kind of firearm proficiency sitting around at a desk job or running around with gang-bangers."

I felt a lump form in the back of my throat. The move I made in the store was way too conspicuous, although it was as much as I could do while crippled.

I already had a sense of what Alex wanted, but I already knew that I wasn't ready to face _Khepri_ or even _Weaver_ yet. We'd only met yesterday, but I could see that Alex was a compassionate person. The type of person I lacked in my adolescence and someone I instinctively knew I wanted to be friends with. I sensed that if I just shut him out here like I did to dad as _Skitter_ , it would be difficult to ever reconcile that gap of trust.

I had once believed that I could handle sacrificing anything in the pursuit of saving the world from Jack Slash, and then again with Scion. Now I knew for certain that wasn't true true, and the horrors of my past would weigh heavily on me until I could face them.

I took in a deep breath, met his gaze, and finally gave him a response.

"You're right Alex...I do have a lot of craziness in my past, a lot more than I could bring myself to tell you back in the cafe, and a lot of it is actually related to capes." I managed to breathe out.

"Will you tell me your story, Taylor?" he asked with a soft tone.

I shook my head. "I need a while to really to get my head together, but I think I'll have to tell someone about it eventually. There's honestly way too much craziness there and I'll go insane if I don't have anyone to confide in."

I paused, oh what the hell.

"I will tell you this though...I'm not from this world, I'm from Earth Bet. Taylor Harris isn't even my real name, it's Taylor _Hebert_."

Alex's eyes widened with shock, and he stammered. "R-really?"

"Yeah" I responded. "To be frank, I crawled out of a living nightmare, and I still have the mental and physical scars to prove it. I was at ground zero of Scion's genocide, in a different sense."

Sirens blared in the distance, indicating the rapid approach of the NYPD. Alex took a glance towards the direction of the sirens, then spoke.

"Hey...Taylor, we barely know each other and all, but do you think you can trust me?"

I thought about it for a second, everything in my gut had pointed one way during our conversations.

"Yeah...I think I can."

He reached out to me with his left hand, and I grabbed on to it.

Suddenly he pulled me in, and hoisted me onto his thick shoulders without a hint of effort.

 _What?_

"Hang on tight!"

We flew up into the air, sailing over the edge of the roof. Looking back, I could see the back door of the book store opening with the head of a TV camera coming through. It was followed by a small group of reporters right as we landed on the roof and safely out of sight.

Oh.

* * *

Cigarette smoke wisped up into the air as Joey watched the early afternoon sun.

It lazily glared over the thick cluster of buildings that made up Atlantic City.

The economy had been in a slump since the housing market crashed, but it was slowly beginning to stabilize and recover. An early indicator of the recovery had been in the casinos that made up the American gambling industry.

Gone were the days where the Seven Families (Six, with the unfortunate vigilante incident) were relegated to seedy underground dealings, where government officials would turn a blind eye to power bids wrought in violence and veiled threats. Since the vicious federal crackdowns in the eve of the last century, the families had taken to consolidating their businesses on "legitimate" fronts.

Oh of course they still controlled the major blue collar unions - Garbage in Manhattan would always be collected by the Gamborinos, Brooklyn garbage would always be collected by the Genovanese, and people who shirked on their loans would be taught a lesson, _forcibly._ However, these days as much of _La Cosa Nostra_ _'s_ income came from real businesses as it did from crime.

Joey leaned back in his office seat, surveying the gambling floors on camera as hen-pecked men and stifled housewives gambled away their savings. It was a phenomenon the Families understood well - people did not come to casinos to win money. They came to casinos to _lose_ money, for the brief moments where they felt alive. The exhilarating moment of uncertainty as they spun the wheels, flipped the cards, and knew in that moment that _everything_ mattered. They bragged about the nights they won, but it was the nights they lost that mattered in the end.

Joey took a long drag on his cigarette, then took a long look at the view from his office. The high offices of the _Cosmopolitan Royale_ were fitting for an Underboss of the Lucchanosa crime family, but hardly fit for the ten year girl dressed in a schoolgirl uniform, who had walked in with the man who held her hand. The man who walked with her was an enforcer named David Cambria, and he looked particularly excited.

The girl was an extraodinary find - she had long raven black hair, amber-gold eyes, and delicately smooth olive skin. The girl was _extremely_ cute, and even had a red ribbon to tie off the look of an introverted, innocent Catholic schoolgirl.

Don Gerardo Di Muzio liked his women young, _really_ young, pre-adolescent young, and he had a particular thing for Mediterranean girls. Finding girls who suited his taste was a pain, and David knew this find would score him extra points with the Don.

For Joseph "Four-Fingers" Perfetti, this was just business. He felt bad about it of course. Joey knew that if there was a god, the judgment waiting for him at the end of the long hall wouldn't be pretty.

The Cosmopolitan Royale was huge, it had ten floors and well over a thousand machines and booths. However, the top floor was private and exclusive to the Lucchanosa family. It was soundproofed to cancel out the maddening noise of machines and the wails of men who lost their fortunes below.

These days, the day to day operations of the Lucchanosa family fell to Joey. That made him the second most powerful man in the family, but rarely would he need to be involved with acquiring items or persons for the Boss. Considering the old man's fetishes though, it was up to him to fix any tensions with the local police and other 'incidents' discreetly.

Tonight, the Don had requested a girl, not just any girl, but a girl suited to his tastes. Whenever he indulged himself, it was up to Joey to clean up after the mess, which meant transporting the girl to a hospital with a bundle of cash for her trouble, a generous bribe for the hospital staff and authorities, and a threat of silence to any family members.

Joey glanced down to his missing right middle finger, the one time he had failed to properly handle the aftermath for the Don.

He looked up at David and spoke.

"Where'd you get the girl Dave?"

Dave simply smirked " 'ey Joey, I got her through da usual hard-cases. Dey say she's an orphan. Real beaut ain't she?"

Joey took another drag of his cigarette, cooly blowing rings into the air.

"So nobody will miss her if..."

The implication was clear, and David gave him a nod.

Joey liked David Cambria - he had recruited the large enforcer and head of security personally. While he gave off an impression of being a big, dumb, brute, he actually had a pretty sharp head on his shoulders, one people tended to underestimate. David also believed in the _Omerta -_ loyalty to the family, and silence. He definitely had what was needed to become a Capo soon, if not a successor to Joey as the Underboss down the line.

He smoothed out his tailor-made Armani suit and glanced down at the girl. It was time to bring her in.

Joey stood up, and crouched in front of the little girl.

"Listen to me, little one. Give the Don nothing but respect and address him as 'grandpa'. Do as he says, cry and let him know when it hurts, and you'll be alright. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded. Her body quaking and her eyes tearing with fear, Joey brushed it off as he opened the double door down into the set of hallways that led into the Don's office. He had become numb to the sight of terrified children over the years. They walked down the final set of hallways, with the sun blaring in over the glass walls and ceiling, and he opened the final set of doors.

Don Gerardo Di Muzio sat at his desk, wearing a tailored grey, pinstripe suit. He could have been mistaken for a kindly grandfather figure from afar, but his eyes gave away his true nature. They were a hollow brown with a disturbing emptiness. He seemed rather small while sitting in his chair, but that same visage would cut an intimidating figure to those who served under him.

"Gerardo? I've brought your _nipotina_ for a visit today." Joey said with a small bow of respect.

Gerardo raised his right hand and beckoned them away. "Leave us."

Joey stayed low, then backed out of the room, closing the door.

"Come here, granddaughter." he said, rising from his desk.

The girl approached with a quiver and an innocent, wide-eyed look of fear.

Gerardo looked at the girl sternly as he felt his excitement rising beneath his desk.

"The school tells me that you've been misbehaving. I'm afraid that I must punish you, child."

He made a show of looking disappointed, then stood as he lifted her on his desk.

The Don leaned down, and ran his hands from her thighs down to her ankles.

"So young..." he murmured. Then his hands brushed something hard and metallic.

"What are these, young one?" he remarked.

"Extra ammunition" the girl coldly responded.

He heard a click, and froze as he looked up. His eyes stared straight into the barrel of a 9mm Luger Parabellum pistol.

"For this."

* * *

Joey flicked a match to light up a new cigarette as he returned to his desk, then jerked up in alarm as the elevator doors opened. The doors cleared to reveal some of the most important men associated with _La Familia_ and a contingent of eight bodyguards.

The Seven Families were powerful not only for their racketeering, gambling, loan sharking, and union domination among other illegal operations, but also for the number of shrewd legitimate investments they had made in recent decades.

Antonio "Big Tony" Avarano stood at the forefront of the group. He was a strategically placed executive in Credit Suisse Manhattan used by several the family and their allies to launder money abroad.

Emilio "Crazy Mill" Cecili, the operations manager of Lucchanosa's adult film mills stood beside him with a scowl.

Ryosuke Toriya, the group's accountant and a graduate of Todai University as well as MIT's Sloan school of business. He was the head of several successful venture capital firms backed by the Lucchanosa.

Raphael Badalamenti and Franklin Thomas Johnson, two mob-funded politician slated to win seats in the House of Representatives for the 9th and 11th congressional district.

Johnathan "Johnny" Castillo, the hedge fund manager for Maltese Falcon Trading Group Inc. Arguabl the most important"legitimate" business run by the Lucchanosa. The firm employed hundreds of young _Turks,_ the sons and daughters of the old guard who did not have to turn to crime for survival like Joey and Gerardo's generations did.

Finally, there was Joey himself. That meant three Caporegimes, the Underboss, a man on a fast track to Capo, and the family's three most valuable Associates in one room.

His instincts screamed to him that something was amiss. The financial lifeblood and top level of the family's leadership should never be found standing around a single penthouse floor of their de-facto headquarters on a single Saturday afternoon, for any reason.

Joey looked at the men and asked. "Why are you all here?"

Toriya responded, "I got a call from Mr. di Muzio earlier telling me he wanted to discuss something."

"I got a call also."

"Same here."

The answers were virtually the same. "Great, what a mess" Emilio grumbled discontentedly as he took a swig from a flask by his side.

"Why would he call you all here while knowing he would be occupied at this time?" Joey wondered out loud.

The gunshot that rang out from Gerardo's office clarified everything for him.

* * *

Wraith activated the comm link that had been hidden in her ear.

"Our primary target has been terminated, engaging secondary targets. Requesting assistance from Fugue to eliminate incoming hostiles."

Wraith reached into the coat pocket of the cooling, eyeless carcass that was Don Gerardo di Muzio and pulled out his Colt 1911A1. Just then, the doors swung open and four armed guards rushed in.

They four guards stopped and looked around in puzzlement.

She took the opportunity to plant a single bullet from the Colt into each of their foreheads. Wraith looked out the window at the blonde man perched on the roof of the building across the street and nodded. He simply stared at her silently in return.

They had approximately one minute and seventeen seconds to eliminate the targets before the elevator arrived. None of them were to escape alive today.

* * *

"Get da fuck down!" David yelled. "Security ter penthouse!" "Security ter penthouse!" The elevator lights blinked on and he pointed at two of the body guards.

"Youse two get my flank! Rest ov' ya gawd da room with yer lives!" he barked.

"What about the boss?" Joey whispered.

David shook his head. "Guess yer' da boss now, Joey man" he said as he leaned against the edge of the hallway.

They moved in a tight group at the Don's office, and David saw the four bodies sprawled in the hallway. He brought up his .44 S&W Anaconda right as a blur jumped out across the hallway and the two men by his side dropped with four pops, a hole at the center of each of their foreheads.

He watched in disbelief as the quivering, shy girl from earlier rushed down the hallway and ducked his first shot, rolling forward.

"You!" he aimed down with his revolver for a second shot right as a flash of steel came up, severing the nerves and tendons in his right hand. A stab to his kidneys and the artery under his armpits immediately followed, and a stab to the back of his heart as she ran past sealed his fate.

 _Pencak Silat_ he recognized as he fell forward.

He felt his body go numb from pain and his vision faded to black.

* * *

The guards standing in the entrance gaped as their boss went down, and they quickly slammed the doors shut. They backed away from the doors with their pistols ready, and five bullets ripped through the flimsy wood before they could clear the line of fire.

Their guns dropped from their fingers and they fell down, lifeless. Toriya screamed and began to frantically press the elevator buttons, and the two politicians hid behind the couches across from Joey's desk with Castillo.

Joey glanced back at the elevators, twenty five seconds until help arrived. He rushed under his desk and pulled out the .38 revolver he hid there in case of situations like this. Avarano and Cecili rushed for the fallen guards' pistols and they took cover behind the bar.

The wooden doors opened, and the little girl walked through. Her expression expression terrified Joey. They were grim, like an angel of death.

Joey raised his gun and began to fire.

She fired her pistol right as he did while moving to the side, dodging his first and second shots. Toriya slumped against the front of the elevators, blood pooling on the formerly pristine marble. Joey's fourth shot rang true, shattering her left arm above the elbow. The girl visibly grit her teeth and spun to preserve momentum and avoid his fifth shot. She fired two more times as Cecili aimed over the counter, shooting the Capo through his eye.

Joey felt his gun click as he emptied the rest of his revolver at the small, agile target in vain.

He reached over for his half-finished bottle of Dalmore 64 Trinitas scotch and broke it as the girl flipped over the counter, stabbing down into the back of Avarano's head before he could react.

He raised the broken bottle and screamed, running at her as she had her back turned.

The girl spun around and casually flicked of her wrist, tossing her knife at him.

Joey's throat gurgled and he fell, choking as he drowned in his own blood.

He could dimly hear the frantic begging of Johnson, Castillo, and Raphie as three shots rang through the room, then silence.

 _Who is this girl?_

The girl stood over him as he died, looking down pitilessly at him as she raised Avarano's Sig Sauer.

 _Lord and father Almighty, I am sorry for all the awful deeds I have committed in my long and sin-filled life._

 _Please have mercy on my soul, my time of judgment has come._

She fired, and then Joey knew nothing.

* * *

The elevator doors opened, and a full security detail rushed into the room.

This had been a cushy job for Michael Zuckerman and his co-workers, even though it was an unspoken fact to the private security firm that they had been working for mobsters. They paid well, and no-one really had the balls to cause trouble on Lucchanosa territory except for the occasional drunk frat boy.

The guards stood in disbelief as they surveyed the carnage before them. In the minute and a half it had taken for help to be called and for them to arrive, there wasn't a single living thing left in the penthouse. A brief sweep of the floor indicated that the Don himself had been killed, along with the entire group of bodyguards that had gone up.

Zuckerman walked up to Joseph Perfetti's corpse. The mob boss had an open knife wound on his throat, and a single hole at the center of his head. Zuckerman noticed a gleam on the mobster's chest and bent down, finding a single coin placed across his chest.

It was Roman in design, and depicted a figure with two heads looking in opposite directions.

 _What the hell?_

* * *

Wraith's eyes snapped open as she dismissed her proxy body.

She flinched as she felt a gash form on her left shoulder and the muscles around it cramped.

It was always a strange feeling when the damage transferred over through her connection. Any injuries she experienced in her projected bodies would transfer over to a lesser degree. Broken bones became bone splints, nasty gashes would becomes paper-thin cuts, and lethal spinal injuries from flashy, acrobatic wrestling moves became clusters of pinched nerves and migraines.

Wraith was glad she killed that fucker when she had the chance, she had been trained as an assassin since she was thirteen for fucks' sake, and the upstart Batman wannabe had treated her like an amateur while stumbling around like a drunken idiot.

She had died three times since she had manifested her powers nearly half a year ago, and two of her 'deaths; had been during the last-minute 'sterilization' mission.

Still, she winced as she reached towards the side of the van and poured anti-septic over the real wound.

It was better than dying for real.

She could control the approximate age of her copy when she formed it, making it an invaluable ability for reconnaissance and assassinations. It also appeared in perfect condition regardless of the state of her real body.

Looking at her real body through the eyes of a pre-pubescent child or the feeble bones of an old lady always felt creepily bizarre. Sometimes the clone would have different colored eyes, or a slightly different nose. She could never control when that effect occurred.

Wraith activated her comm-link, and spoke into it.

"Contract complete."


	6. Genesis 1-6

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah I don't own Worm, Wildbow does.

A/N: Whew! Longest chapter yet, there are another 1500 words or so that I'm going to post as an interlude.

* * *

 **Genesis 1.6**

 _I had a dream, and in my dream, I had found a djinn contained within a lamp of old. I released it, and it bowed to me and asked what my heart desired. Did I want the most beautiful women? Riches beyond ken? Fame? A Kingdom?_

 _What did I ask for?_

 _I asked to be a blade in great Allah's hands, to smite the infidels, to bring despair to the western House of War such that they weep, knowing that God is great. The djinn laughed, and burst forth with a brilliance greater than a thousand suns. It revealed itself to be an angel of great power and incredible beauty._

 _And she bestowed upon me with the breath of Paradise, so that when I rose from my slumber, I knew I had become the wrath and shield of Allah._

~Speech by Madafie al-Din, Metahuman Field Commander of the New Caliphate. March 2014.

* * *

"You're...Noble" I whispered.

"The one and only, but let's talk about this somewhere a little more secure." he responded as we landed on the roof.

Police sirens blared loudly from the north, signaling that New York's finest had arrived at last.

After we got on the roof, Alex and I quietly hid our NYU hoodies in our bags. Then we climbed down the fire escape on the other side of the building and descended down into another alley which led into the streets.

Walking into the streets as calmly and naturally as we could, Alex pointed his thumb towards the "L" train station up the street, and I nodded.

It went without saying that we should get as far away from the general area as possible.

We descended down into the underground and Alex passed me an extra Metrocard. The second we stepped onto the platform, a train pulled up and we immediately got on it. It was fairly sparse at this time, with only about a dozen people on the train.

"Man..." Alex muttered, slumping down into his seat "I've gotta say, this has been an absolutely craptastic week."

I couldn't help but agree.

Seriously, what the hell was up with my luck?

During my first day in the city, I learned of the existence of capes, and was subsequently assaulted by a bum in a street alley the same evening.

On the second day, I had simply been enjoying some morning tea and coffee with a new friend when I found myself on the receiving end of Earth Samek's first super-powered terrorist attack.

To top things off, said new friend also immediately revealed to me that he was New York City's resident vigilante cape all along.

I swear there was some cosmic entity out there toying with my life for its own amusement.

One of these days, I would get to have a lunchtime heart to heart with someone without a proverbial bomb going off nearby.

I leaned over to Alex and asked, "So, where to?"

Alex looked around, before turning to me and speaking quietly. "I'm not actually the only vigilante cape in the city, the problem is, my partner is more suited towards logistical support. She and I have a secure base across town, and you can visit us there if you want."

He paused, looking around to make sure no-one could hear us.

"If you want to talk a little with us about New York's cape situation, we can head straight there. Or, you can hop off on the next stop, and we can just just forget about everything that just happened in the last hour. I think I have a good enough gauge on your character to know you can keep a secret like this."

I really, really wanted nothing more than to just stick my head in the sand at this point. It would be so easy to just back out and watch everything unfold before my eyes.

But at the same time, I felt like I would be throwing Alex and his partner to the wolves.

I looked him in the eye and made my decision.

"I'm coming with you," I said firmly.

We rode the train silently after, and the train zoomed cross-town in almost no time at all. Getting out of the train station, I noticed we had arrived in Chelsea near the Meatpacking District.

He began to head west, towards the river and I followed him. At some point, we turned down into an alleyway, and arrived at a row of warehouses along the river.

We walked through a fence, then down between two sets of warehouses.

There was a heavy metal door along the side one of the warehouses, and a plate that said _"Property of Phaseshift Incorporated - No Tresspassing"_ hanging over the top of the door. Alex punched a few numbers into the keypad on the side, and he stepped inside as the door opened.

I followed him into the darkness.

* * *

 _"Please identify yourself within T-minus fourteen point two eight three seconds, or I may be forced to take hostile action"_ a young alto voice spoke out.

The voice had a slight metallic tint and sounded young.

 _"Trespassers and aggressors will be vacated with extreme and wanton prejudice"_

"You know damn well it's me." Alex responded.

The lights turned on, and a monitor opened in front of us. A second later, a pixelated head depicting a young, brunette girl with grey eyes appeared and spoke from the monitor.

 _"Good afternoon uncle Alex, it is good to see you again"_ the face said with a warm smile.

"Good to see you too, but can you please start using our code-names when you greet us? You never know when this place might somehow be compromised, Sally."

 _"Perhaps I would be more inclined to do so if you didn't choose such a pretentious name, Alex. Really? **Noble** of all the names you could have picked with your powers? _ she grinned at Alex teasingly.

"Hey!" Alex bit back, "I know I'm pretty bad at names...and costumes, but I'm working on both."

" _Anyway, mother is working inside, I'm alerting her to your presence as we speak."_

The face turned its head to me.

 _"Hey! I see Alex has brought another guest, what's your name?"_ the face contorted into the vague shape of a smiley face emoticon and shifted back.

That was slightly creepy.

"Uh...hi, I'm Taylor, pleased to meet you? Who are you?"

 _"My official title is TA-MING SARI Mk. IV Serial_ 00A-19"

It paused with a contemplative expression.

 _"But you can call me Sally or Sari if you prefer."_

An automated door opened for us, letting us into a short hallway.

 _"Dagger awaits."_

We started walking down the hall, and I couldn't help but wonder...

"Alex, was that a..."

"That was Ta-Ming Sari, but as she said, you can call her Sally. She was created by my good friend and partner in crimefighting - Dagger." he spoke, before confirming my line of thought.

"To my knowledge, Sally's the closest thing our world has to a true functioning AI. She was created by randomly sorting and mirroring Dagger's brain wave patterns to a neural network of her own design. She's kind of like having an AI daughter with a seventy to eighty percent genetic match rather than fifty percent.. Dagger wanted to create an experiment to emulate human consciousness, and I think she's been fairly successful in that regard."

He continued as we walked. "Dagger was with me at Ground Zero. She developed superpowers at the same time as me - some sort of data processing and interpretation ability. The girl was already a total genius when it came to engineering, but the power-up pushed her abilities through the roof."

Alex was working with a Tinker? Now that was interesting. Even on Earth Bet, Tinkers were extremely rare and coveted by just about every cape faction.

They were also the bane of my existence.

"The stuff she keeps in her servers here would probably revolutionize technology in our world five times over. We've been releasing bits and pieces of watered down versions into the software market to fund our escapades. An ad sorting program here, an innovative encryption algorithm there, nothing that would stand out _too_ much."

I started snickering, and we stopped walking as raised a single eyebrow at me.

"Sally was right, you know," I laughed. "Noble is a pretty silly name, and oh my god your _costume_."

At that moment that I realized that I actually hadn't laughed at anything in months. It'd just been months after months of difficult, painful physical therapy and blank faces at a community college.

Plus, I found the image of Alex hopping around in a poncho and ski mask hilarious.

I burst out in a fit of giggles, and I just couldn't stop.

"Sheesh, give me a break," Alex said defensively. "What was I supposed to call myself? I mean, they called me The Jumping Man and Leaper in the conspiracy tabloids for Christ's sake!"

Alex paused awkwardly as I drowned in mirth, and started laughing along as well.

"Yeah" he chuckled, "I've thought about how stupid my name and costumes are more often than I'd like to admit, but I digress."

He picked up a wrench sitting on a drum barrel.

"What do you think of the name 'Guardian', Taylor?"

He swung the wrench at the barrel, and I could see a shimmer in the air as the wrench bounced off something solid.

"I needed a name that would paint me as a hero vigilante without revealing the actual nature of my powers, and I didn't think much of it at the time" he explained. "I'm not sure exactly how my powers work, and I'd give myself an aneurysm trying to figure it out, but it has to do with metals."

"I can project transparent shields between my line of sight and a cluster of metallic bonds. The more massive the bond structure, and the closer my shield is to the source, the stronger my shield becomes. Same thing goes for my jumping ability."

 _"This is all worthless, _absolutely, utterly,_ worthless." the villain opened his hand, and the girl screamed in agony as the green rays scattered on _something_ , flaying her alive and turning her into hamburger meat. Another burst, and she was shredded into ash._

 _Something_ had started scattering the villain's attacks on his victims a few seconds into the massacre, and now I knew.

"Guardian actually does sound like a decent name, compared to Noble at least" I nodded approvingly.

He flashed a brilliant smile at me, "Hehe, thanks!"

Alex beckoned me forth. "Anyway let's head inside, Dagger is waiting for us."

We walked forward and a set of doors opened ahead, letting us inside.

* * *

Entering the warehouse proper, I could immediately see a dim, blue glow coming from an array of over a dozen monitors about twenty yards down on the left.

A girl wearing a visor and lab coat was hunched over near the monitors. She was cranking away at the inside of a door-sized metal box with a screwdriver.

The main area of the warehouse was fairly sparse, and the ground was covered by a polished layer of hardwood flooring. Several sections were closed off and divided into rooms by walls of glass, which included a full kitchen with a dining table, as well as a small weight room with a bench press, barbell rack, and a row of dumbbells.

A complicated looking grid of electronic equipment lined the walls ceilings, hooking into the heat and ventilation system, and there were tons of intricate machines and parts laid out on various tables and work benches. There were also multiple trophies and awards for innovation and young entrepreneurship lining the walls, with titles such as 'NYU Innovention Convention - Best Pitch 2013' credited towards an Alexander Seto and Valeria Falacci.

Directly opposite from the monitors was a knee-high glass table and some comfy looking couches with snacks. There was an un-hung plaque propped up on the couch, titled by the "American Systema and Combat Sambo Association." It certified 'Alexander Seto' as a 'Master of Sport - 1st Razryad' in large English and Cyrillic letters, and was dated to March 2014.

A metal wall hung over the area halfway down the warehouse, closing off roughly a third of the building from the main area.

All in all, the main area's layout gave the warehouse the look of a successful modern tech start-up office look rather than the dreary warehouse or secret base it looked like from the outside.

We began to walk towards the girl, who was muttering to herself as she worked.

"Let's see...just have to calibrate the azimuthal angle by another two degrees. Oh maybe I can add a -ow!"

She yelped and her screwdriver went sailing into the air towards us, clattering on the floor behind her.

The girl turned, finally noticing that we've walked in. She stood up, then she _scampered_ towards us.

She was pretty despite the soot covering her coat and denim overalls, and she had very cute body language. Her shoulder length hair was tied up in a ponytail, and it was adorned by purple highlights. She stood at roughly five feet five inches tall, and looked like a more realistic, twenty-year old version of Sari. Her skin was notably pale, likely from a moderate case of sunlight deprivation.

"Hey there!" she perked out as she held out her hand, offering a handshake. "I'm Dagger, or Valeria, but you can call me Val. Are you a member of Truesight's group?"

"Hi, I'm Taylor" I responded as I took her hand, "and no, I'm not a member of Truesight's group."

Her palms were rough to the touch and covered in callouses.

Alex interjected, "She's...well, shit, it's complicated and I'll explain in a bit. but I can assure you she's good people and in the know. How's our other guest doing?"

The girl now identified as Dagger shook her head, "The seizures subsided around noon, but he's only just started to become lucid again. Man, what in the world was going on in there?"

Alex shrugged, then sighed. "I'm not sure what the hell I stumbled into last night, and I don't think we'll find out any time soon now that the building's gone up in flames."

"For now, I'll just let them think I'm dead and that Jonathan got out on his own. Maybe I'll take a break from the field for a week or two, invest in a new name and proper hero gear like Truesight's crew does."

"Yeah" Dagger agreed. "You've proved your point with your 'training' tactics."

Dagger made airquotes with her fingers at the word 'training'

"Alex you have no fucking idea how terrified I was watching all that happen from your point of view. It could've easily been avoided with a decent stab vest" Dagger chastised.

"I get it, I get it, I've been putting it off long enough. Anyway, you're sure he came up clean for tracking devices right?" Alex asked.

"Yup, as sure as I can be, and I'm the gal with the supernaturally gifted engineering ability. We have much bigger things to worry about if I'm wrong" Dagger responded.

My curiosity got the better of me.

"If I may ask, what exactly was the deal with last, Alex?" I inquired. "You walked in on me watching you sort of well, die on camera when I was in the lounge."

Dagger and Alex looked at each other, and fell silent for a second.

Then, Alex spoke.

"It's a bit of a long story" he explained. "A close friend of ours, Bobby, went missing soon after the...the Scion incident. His father, Maxwell Kunhold was a highly regarded scientist in high energy physics who made a series of notable finds leading up to the Golden Morning. A few weeks after Scion attacks, his entire family is discovered shot to death in their own home, and Bobby was nowhere to be found.

"...The mysterious part is, all records on Bobby and his immediate family have been flushed from public records and search engines" Dagger added.

He walked over to the mouse and keyboard set up, then opened a picture of an ordinary looking woman with a scowl on one of the monitors.

"We were investigating the Gunther Schumann Institute because Dagger and I tracked down a former member of Kunhold's team from his latest project at the Columbia Navis Labs. Her name is Doctor Ren Andrews, a Biophysicist who was running a research group for radiation shielding."

Alex continued, "I had also recently managed to wrangle a little known fact that the institute was a processing plant used to process street drugs for the Heavenly Sons out of a mobster."

He pulled up the building that I had seen explode on camera, and continued.

"The Heavenly Sons, or Tianzi Hui is a Chinatown based triad known for smuggling amphetamines. Unfortunately, they are also known for human trafficking, and it's an ill-kept secret on the black market that they're paying a fortune right now for live specimens of metahumans."

"I broke into the basement at the Schumann institute and ended up finding Jonathan Murphy, an NYU student who had gone missing last spring. He was locked into a freaking pod out of a B-rated Sci Fi horror movie. Sally, please play the recordings from my eyepiece."

 _"On it"_ Sally's voice echoed from the monitors.

The monitors flickered to Alex's point of view as he walked into a dark, eerie looking research chamber. There were two dozens pods lining the sides of the room, each filled with a grotesque abomination vaguely shaped like a human being.

The camera landed on a pod, and I could see a healthy human face within. Alex tried to pry it open, before giving up and asking Dagger to do the job.

He walked over to a computer nearby, and the monitor fast forwarded through him hacking in to snoop around before he opened a folder.

I watched and listened, a bit horrified as Doctor Andrews nonchalantly rattled off from a human experiment log that would have made Josef Mengele proud.

Alex fast forwarded through his escape with Jonathan on his back, and slowed it down after the explosion that threw him and his rescuee skirting along the ground. I watched as his camera shook, rolling on the ground as he was rattled by an explosion. He stood up, then turned as a woman wearing a blank white mask and spy suit with a pair of knives stumbled, no doubt staggered by his shields.

Dagger began to yell at him as he slipped into a hazy, sluggish attack pattern, striking out and deflecting the woman's attacks as he ignored her shouting.

Alex eventually caught the woman in an impressive looking clinch, and arced back with a loud *crack*. He leaped across the plaza, but the woman suddenly appeared out and unbalanced him mid-jump, landing on his torso as he fell. I felt a bit of queasiness as she began to slash and stab down at him. He gurgled and croaked awfully, then suddenly the camera panned off to the side as the woman drove her knife down and twisted in empty air.

What the?

She stood up and stared straight at the camera before speaking into a transceiver.

" _Our little spook has been terminated, looks like we won't have to worry about Noble in our future plans."_

 _"Man that fucker hit like a truck, I can feel my head ringing even through the connection. Erosion, dispose of the evidence."_

A purple blob shot through the air and landed on a blank spot on the ground. It burst into flame after a few seconds and disappeared without leaving so much as a mark.

She reached down and grabbed at something invisible, before making lifting up with a grunt.

 _"Don't even think about it, you had no fucking idea what she might be able to do, and that almost got you killed a second ago"_ a voice spoke out from nearby.

A knife flew out from the side, striking the woman in the back of the head and dropping her to the ground.

The camera panned left, and I could see a bruised and swollen Jonathan Murphy. They talked for a moment, and Alex picked him up on his back before leaping east at a breakneck pace.

 _"I-I-I c-can't maintain the perception field f-for much longer"_ Jonathan whispered after a minute of Alex's stomach-lurching jumps.

Alex took his bloodied coat off, then took Jonathan by the shoulders. They had arrived in an alley behind a street filled with cocktail lounges and bars. I could hear rustling as they limped ahead arm in arm, and Alex pulled the eyepice off before walking ahead. .

Then, I heard Alex shout "Taxi!" and there was the sound of a car pulling up nearby.

"Holy crap, what the hell happened to him?" a voice spoke out, presumably the cabbie.

"We got into a bit of a scrap at the pub there. I'll give you a nice fat tip if you can get us to Chelsea in 14th street and 10th ave and under the Highline in twenty. Our roommate is a surgeon off call and we could use him low key right about now."

"Ya got it boss. You kids need ta learn not ter get into messes like this, sheesh. I can't go a month without picking up kids who ain't know when to shut their mouths before getting into a drunken brawl can I?"

The recording cut off.

* * *

"And that's that" Alex turned around. "He zoned out when we hopped on the cab and became more and more distant as we traveled down the west highway."

Alex rubbed his left shoulder with a wince.

"He passed out and started shocking my nerves every couple of seconds as we got him out of the cab, but I managed to get him in the back here."

I reeled at the bomb Alex and Val just dropped on me. So there was at LEAST one group out there kidnapping people off the street and experimenting on them. They were completely willing to 'sanitize' their trail, including the lives of dozens of their own security personnel to maintain secrecy.

Moreover, they had a superpowered, professional wetwork squad that could be deployed in under fifteen minutes.

"There had to be a minimum of one Master, Blaster, and a Stranger in that squad" I quietly muttered off-offhandedly.

"Pardon?" Dagger asked.

"Ah umn, well..." I stammered.

"She's from Earth Bet" Alex commented offhandedly. "I'm willing to bet she's referring to a superpower classification system of some sort.

"Oh wow!" Dagger exclaimed, "You're from Earth Bet? That's so cool! Is it true that the world was exactly like ours? Why are you here on our world? Why did Scion go nuts and ...oh my."

 _"Thousands of minds circling around me, all within my locus of control. Seventy-one capes layered a protective shield over me, refracting his grief-stricken golden rays long enough for the Doormaker to..."_

I felt a hand gently land on my shoulder and I blinked, and realized I had zoned out again. My forehead was covered in a layer of sweat and my breathing had become short and rapid. I had been hyperventilating.

"Val... for the record, Taylor has an enormous amount of trauma associated with Scion and Earth Bet. She hasn't told me the specifics, but I wouldn't broach that area until she's comfortable with it, if ever" Alex explained.

"I'm so sorry, I won't bring it up ever again!" Dagger apologized jumping at me with a teary, apologetic hug.

 _Dammit, I fucking killed you, you sorry excuse of an Oscar trophy. Why do you continue to haunt me even in death?_

"It's alright" I responded letting her off. "I'm going to have to learn to cope and deal with it eventually, and honest I'm sick of my past haunting my dreams and dragging me into a pit every time I think I've gotten better. I know the time isn't anywhere right.

 _What I would give to have Jessica Yamada here with me for a couple of weeks._

I turned to Alex. brushing his hand off my shoulder.

"Alex, you've shown me an enormous amount of trust, compassion, and understanding in the short time we've known each other, and you really have no idea how big of a deal that is to me. The really touchy stuff about me, about Earth Bet... I can't and won't be able deal with right now, but I do want to help you guys out."

Alex started to respond but I held up my hand and stopped him.

"What I told you about working for law enforcement at the bookstore? That was true, to an extent, but I did fudge the facts a little. It wasn't actually the Police I worked for when I was in my home dimension."

I took a deep breath, then continued.

"My name is Taylor Hebert, and when I was on Earth Bet, I was a member of The Protectorate."

I had their full attention.

"The Protectorate?" Dagger inquired

"The Protectorate" I confirmed.

"Back on Earth Bet, The Protectorate was better known as the largest superhero organization in North America."

* * *

 _Atlantic City..._

David Cambria awoke to a world of pain. He couldn't feel his body below the chest, and it felt like he had been trampled on by a herd of elephants.

"Mister Cambria, I see that you are awake." A voice spoke out in the darkness with a posh New England accent.

David attempted to turn his head towards the sound, but he could only feel one eye in his socket. His blurred vision showed a dark room surrounded by a wide array of strange surgical equipment.

"W-where da fuck am I?!" David finally managed to rasp out. His throat was on fire, and somehow managed to feel worse than the rest of his body did.

"Mister Cambria," the man said, was he some kind of fucking Doctor? "You are in a very sorry state right now, I'm afraid. I would suggest that you minimize movement until we can finish talking here and I can put you back under sedation."

A thin, middle aged man walked out from the shadows. He was wearing a surgeon's outfit, and he had dark hair and brown eyes. His beard was neatly trimmed in a goatee fashion with a saw-tooth edge, and crow's feet lined the sides of his eyes.

David felt his lips crack as he tried to speak again.

"I...I can't feel anything below my chest Doc, did she get my spine?"

The man nodded. "I apologize, David, you can't feel most of your body because most of it was removed to save your life. Your arms and right leg needed to be amputated, and you are on critical life support right now."

David mentally reeled.

"W-w-who are you?" David rasped out. "I-is Joey okay? He's he's like a pap to me...please tell me he's okay."

The surgeon shook his head solemnly, "I'm sorry, you were the only one that managed to leave the Cosmopolitan Royale's penthouse alive. The Lucchanosa lives on, but you and I both know it is effectively finished with a broad stroke decapitation of that scale."

"Dammit, DAMMIT!" David shouted.

 _I've failed, horribly._

The Don was a childfucking nutcase even by mafia standards and the most important man in the family. Technically he had sworn his oath to the Don, but David didn't give a flying fucking about the Don. To him it was Joey, the man who pulled him - freshly orphaned at the tender age of sixteen off the streets, that had his loyalty.

"I have a proposal for you, Mister Cambria."

David's vision blurred painfully as the Doctor continued to speak.

"My colleague at the hospital screened you as a genetic match for a... program I've run for a few years. I can offer you an alternative to being confined to a wheelchair for life, and a chance for vengeance on the group that has wronged you."

"Sell me the pitch, Doc" David wheezed.

"Cybernetic enhancement" the Doctor replied.

"No shit?"

Silence.

"You mean yer gonna replace my arms and leg with mechanical crap?"

The Doctor loomed over him and gazed down with a hard stare. His glasses reflected the dim lighting of the room.

"Yes."

"You'll send me after the girl? Kill the shit out of her?"

"Yes."

 _I am an extortionist, a bully, a saboteur and a killer, and what else can I do?_

 _Nothing._

 _For the last nine, almost ten years, David Cambria has followed the direction of La Familia, bullying and killing at their whim._

 _David Cambria died in the Cosmopolitan Royale._

 _But **I** am not dead._

"You know what Doc, I've got nothing to lose... I'll take you up on it. What should I call ya anyway?"

The man lowered his face to stare down at David, the glare from the lights obscuring his eyes.

"You may call me The Artificer, Mister Cambria."

David laughed, then coughed hoarsely, feeling the inflammation flare up.

"David Cambria is dead, Artificer."

The Artificer stared down at him quizzically.

"There is only **_Omerta_** now" Omerta said with a wide, pained smile.

The Artificer mirrored Omerta's expression with a grin of his own.

Omerta felt a needle plunge down into his neck, and blissful darkness set in.


	7. Genesis 1-7

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah I don't Worm, but I certainly do hope to write something just as awesome someday.

* * *

 _ **If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stomping on a human face — forever**_

-George Orwell

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update all, I had a lot on my plate. The good news is I procrastinated by scribbling bits and pieces of the next two chapters so they should be out relatively quickly :).

* * *

 **-Taylor-**

Dagger and Alex stared at me in surprise.

"W...What?" Dagger finally managed to eke out after a couple of seconds.

"The largest superhero organization in North America huh..." Alex muttered, trailing off for a moment. "Here I thought you just wanted to know a little more about the capes we know about who don't make a habit of taunting the police while snatching hundred dollar bills out of cash registers. Why don't we sit down where it's a little more comfortable?"

We walked over to the couches and slumped down on the couches together. They were super comfortable, and made of sleek modern leather.

Alex folded his glasses and placed them on the table.

"So, this Protectorate of yours..." he trailed off for a second, "Are we talking a campy super team fighting for truth, justice, and the power of love and spandex? Or are we talking about more of a gritty, government sanctioned law enforcement agency?"

He grabbed an apple from the snack tray and bit a chunk out of it.

Honestly I was uncertain on how I would spin this whole thing.

The Protectorate was really all about reputation, prestige, and flash in the end, with little substance. What substance they had was rotten to the core. There was the whole 'run from the shadows by a cabal of utilitarian psychopaths' thing and all.

"The latter, to an extent" I responded. "They accepted government funding and legitimacy in exchange for bureaucratic oversight, but technically it was a separate organization on its own."

He took a few more bites out of the apple, before responding.

"Shit...everything that's happened in the last 48 hours is all a little too much. First the secret basement right out of a bad sci-fi B-movie, the cafe, and now this."

"The cafe?" Dagger asked quizzically.

"Yeah," Alex responded wearily. "Taylor and I were just having a chat in the Astor book store an hour ago when some super-powered nutcase came in and started killing people left and right. He had some sort of disintegration beam that pretty much killed on contact."

"Sally? Search through local news stations please" Dagger requested.

The monitors immediately switched to a 'breaking news' article on a local news site.

 _'NEW YORK - Day of tragedy, 41 confirmed dead in lunchtime superhuman massacre.'_

"Oh my god" Dagger covered her mouth, and her eyes widened in horror.

I noticed Alex's hand trembling out of a corner of my eye.

Alex continued, "We got him in the end, but he killed half the fucking people in the bookstore before we managed to bring him down. Taylor grabbed a dead guard's gun and blew his brains out across the floor."

"Dammit!"

He squeezed the apple, and what remained of itshattered in his hand.

"If only I were faster, if I had better control over my shields. Maybe, maybe - fuck!"

"Alex..." Dagger whispered.

Alex leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands remaining in that position for a few seconds.

"I-I'm going to need a minute or two to cool my head."

He stared ahead into the distance with somber eyes.

"Taylor, if you'd care to join us and chat over some food, feel free. You prefer tea over coffee right?"

Alex began to stand up

"Yes, I prefer tea over coffee, and I'll definitely stay."

He paused, standing still against the dim lighting.

"And Alex? I know what it's like."

Alex stayed silent walked around. He scooped up what remained of his apple and tossed them into a nearby bin. He walked over into the kitchen enclosure, closed the door, and started washing his hands.

 _"That bad, huh?"_

I jolted as I heard Sally speak out of one of the speakers behind us.

"Yeah" I replied, "Alex hasn't said a word about it yet, but he was using his power to shield Death Ray's victims from the balcony. He managed to deflect a couple of the bursts, but for the most part his shields were blown through as if they weren't even there."

I remembered the horrific screams of the woman who had been flayed alive by Death Ray's light.

"One of the victims would have been better off if he hadn't shielded her, but he's being way too hard on himself. A lot more civilians would have died if he wasn't there."

Dagger sighed, "That's just who he is, Taylor. He's been trying to shoulder the entire world on his back since he obtained his powers."

A roar erupted from the kitchen as Alex switched on the vents and cleaned off a cutting board.

"I'm almost afraid to know what you meant by 'I know what it's like' " Dagger stated.

"The feeling of total helplessness as innocents die under your watch at the hands of a twisted psychopath? Knowing you were too slow or too weak to stop him?" I replied.

 _Tall, faceless, featureless, but for the chains and ball joints that connected his ceramic-encased limbs. One hand was raised, a single finger, ticking from side to side like a metronome. Like an old-fashioned parent scolding an errant child._

 _The other hand was folded back, a long telescoping blade extended from the base of Mannequin's palm. The blade was pressed to the neck of the gray-haired doctor._

 _He drew the blade across her throat, shearing through the skin. Her blood sprayed forth to cover some of the ground between us. She collapsed to the ground._

I blinked as I felt a tug on my arm.

"Are you alright Taylor? You spaced out for a minute there" Dagger asked worriedly.

"Yeah, it's just... I know how he feels all too well."

All too well.

* * *

Dagger and I sat down around a small table inside of the kitchen enclosure as a heavenly, savory aroma lingered in the air. We silently set the table as Alex did his cooking, lost in his own thoughts.

He was tossing vegetables in the air from a wok with one hand while turning a chicken roast with the other. A crock pot sat simmering on the corner of the stove as steam rose up into the air, and a tray sat in the bottom of oven.

A few minutes later, I gaped in awe as Alex walked over with bowl after bowl of colorful, delicious looking food.

The first dish he placed down was a chicken rotisserie garnished with sauteed onions, dripping with brown gravy at the center of our table.

Then he put down three vegetarian dishes - a large salad of raisins, lime, orange, and spinach leaves, followed by a large, colorful vegetable stir fry.

Finally, there was the crock pot, which was full of creamy mushrooms and pork shoulder kissed with minced garlic, which he placed next to the chicken.

The meal was topped off with a hot basket of bread and biscuits that sat on the side, freshly warmed from the oven.

"Wow" I said, nodding approvingly.

I wasn't ever much of a cook myself, and I was fairly impressed with the meal he whipped up in such a short amount of time.

"Good food cures all woes of the soul" he stated plainly. "Dig in guys, we...we've got a lot to talk about."

I winced internally, fully understanding the turmoil that he was keeping down right now. Nevertheless, I obliged him and filled my bowl with some of the mushrooms and pork cubes.

He placed some large brown leaves in a tea kettle, and poured boiling water on it from an electronic water heater. Dagger poured a cup of the tea out and took a reverent sip.

I picked up a biscuit with my one good arm, and took a bite out of it. A burst of hot steam fogged up my glasses as the warm, flaky buttermilk biscuit melted on my tongue. I poured a cup of the tea, and smiled in delight as the hot liquid burned down my throat. Green tea, good quality stuff too.

We took a few minutes to quietly enjoy the soul-soothing meal together, before it finally hit me. They were waiting for me to become comfortable enough to initiate.

I took a sip of my tea to soothe my nerves, and finally broached the silence.

"So...would you guys rather I tell you a little bit about Earth Bet, or should we talk about the local situation first?"

Sally spoke up.

 _"If I may, Taylor, I think we should start with an overview on the history of powers on Earth Bet. I'm sure we have our fair share of pre-conceived notions and misconceptions about these superpowers, and your knowledge would do a lot to clear them up."_

The entire subject made me highly uncomfortable, but I made a promise to myself and I was going to keep it.

"Alright then" I sighed.

"It all started on May 20th, 1982. An ocean liner crossing from Plymouth to Boston spotted a naked, golden man floating in the air with a mournful expression, and after deliberating with each other, the passengers and crew took a detour to get a closer look. Seeming to share in their curiosity, the golden figure drew closer as well."

"The passengers stared at him in awe, reaching out to clasp his hands. The golden man returned the gesture solemnly and he flew away shortly after, but he would reappear several times in the coming months and years, always with the same solemn gaze."

"Suddenly, the man began to intervene in times of crisis and disaster. A major terrorist sect would be neutralized and captured, large bodies of water water frozen to stop tsunamis, erupting volcanoes quelled. actions that were generally seen as miracles. For fifteen years, he stayed silent, never speaking a single word except for one occasion. After a large fire in Russia, a reporter approached him and asked him 'Kto vy?' – what are you? To the shock of the world, he answered, and from then on the word stuck as his name."

"Scion..." Dagger whispered, coming to the correct conclusion.

She looked like she wanted to ask more about Scion, but hesitated and pursed her lips tightly.

I sipped more of my tea before continuing. This stuff was _really_ good.

"I'll tell you more about that eventually Val, but please, not now."

A shudder ran down my spine as Scion's visage briefly flashed in in my mind.

"Anyway, until five years after his initial appearance, the existence of superheroes had been shadowed in secrecy, speculation, and disbelieving conspiracy. A large portion of the public even thought Scion was a serious hoax for the first two or three years or so. Then, the heroes started going public, and the villains followed not too long after" I explained.

"It only took a year for people to really start noticing here" Alex remarked. "Then again, it's hard to stick your head in the sand in denial after a fourteenth of the planet's population is wiped out overnight, with eyewitness footage all over the world."

I nodded in acknowledgement.

"Now the Protectorate... the Protectorate was a team originally formed on May 1st, 1988 by four of the strongest heroes in the North America - Library of Alexandria, Eidolon, Legend, and Hero, which was arguably the start of Earth Bet's 'Golden Age'. This honeymoon period, when superheroes came out to the public and the Protectorate formed was a time when prominent heroes were were seen as deity-like figures straight out of science fiction. Unfortunately, it was a pretty short lived era."

"What happened, if I may ask?" Dagger inquired.

"Our initial chink in the armor came when the first superhero, Vikare - one of the passengers on the original cruise ship was clubbed over the head and killed trying to quell a sports riot in 1989. The magic faded a little then, but the prominence and sheer charisma of the Protectorate kept the wonder and imagination of the world going for a little while longer."

It helped that Legend and Hero had in hindsight, been the closest things we had to paragons, something I never would have acknowledged when I was still Skitter. I didn't know much about Hero, but sans global conspiracy, Legend had proven himself in the end. They were true leaders, men that the Protectorate would follow because they were worth following not because they were 'in charge'.

"Then...the Endbringers began to appear, starting with Behemoth, and the world started going straight to hell."

"Endbringers? That totally doesn't sound foreboding at all. Let me guess, inter-dimensional eldritch horrors beyond comprehension by the mortal mind? Space starfish with a taste for human flesh?" Alex guessed cynically.

 _Not too far off, Alex._

I still remembered my first and final encounter with the beast, clear as day. Gray, leathery, topped with cooled magma and obsidian crags. An orange haze in the sky as New Delhi burned to the ground.

The battle was one of the biggest clusterfucks the Protectorate had ever seen, although Scion did manage to finish off the beast in the end.

I wanted nothing more than to forget each and every battle I had with the Endbringers. The blazing heat, staring up in awe at the sheer size and might of Behemoth, a towering giant that I could not even begin to hope to attack directly. The crushing helplessness as I called out to Regent, to stop his distraction. Aisha's frantic, hysterical cursing and sobbing as she cradled his lifeless, burnt and charred body.

 _Alec..._

I couldn't help myself, and a trail of tears rolled down my cheeks. Adrenaline, humor, anger, sorrow, too much in such a short amount of time.

How had I grown so numb? I was terrifying as the Warlord of Brockton Bay, and I knew it. When I became Weaver, I became an absolute horror. For the past three years it had nothing been absolutely single-minded drive and detachment, and then a year long fugue where I had been all but dead. I killed a man earlier today, and I felt nothing at all.

What kind of monster was I that I couldn't even find it in me to cry and mourn long after my fight was over?

 _'The same monster who would force a countless number of people to fight and die against their will'_ a voice answered.

I moved my good arm up to brush the water out of my eyes, only to feel a soft texture on the back of my hand. I blinked, and saw Val leaning over, offering me a box of tissues. Her brows were furrowed and she her lips had a faint pout.

"Thanks" I said, dabbling at my eyes before continuing my exposition.

"Sometime in late 1992, a fifty foot tall monstrosity covered in gray crag rocks appeared in the Marun Fields, Iraq, where the Protectorate was present offering earthquake relief. The monster's skin was crusted with black stone that might have been obsidian, and his glowing red eye still haunts my nightmares. That monster would eventually come to be known as Behemoth. Now to get a sense of what we were dealing with, I'll tell you a little about the core members of the Protectorate."

"The original Protectorate was led by Hero, whose abilities allowed him to create virtually any energy-based device. There was Alexandria, who was such an archetypal 'Flying Brick' that any parahuman with flight, strength, and durability was said to have gotten the 'Alexandria Package'. Then there was Legend, who was an archetypal 'Flying Artillery' hero taken to a ridiculous degree. Legend was capable of throwing around laser beams that could level entire city blocks in seconds, and could fly fast enough to loop the planet in seconds. His body would also shift instantly into a mass of energy when struck hard enough, healing any damage. Finally there was Eidolon could hold three sets of superpowers at once, and if he were to say, choose gravity manipulation as one of his powers, he could easily flatten a city to the ground."

"Even with those powerhouses running around? They could barely scratch Behemoth in most of their encounters, and I mean it. Behemoth was a dynakinetic energy manipulator on an absolutely ridiculous level. He had complete control over all types of energy, from radiation to kinetic, and he generated enough passive radiation and heat around him to instantly incinerate anything within a hundred feet that didn't have extremely durability. He threw just about everything that could be thrown at him back, twice as hard, and a lot of the local capes were killed before he retreated. Then, a couple of months later, he showed up on the coasts of New York City and began to ravage it before once again retreating. These attacks from behemoth happened periodically, one to three times a year. Each time, there was a roughly one in four casualty rate among responders and evacuation volunteers, powered and powered alike."

"Dear lord" Alex said as his eyes widened in shock. "And... you're talking about these 'Endbringers' as in plural?"

I nodded in affirmation.

"Soon after the attack on New York, the Protectorate officially joined the government as a sanctioned law enforcement agency. It would be a separate entity from the government, but take orders from a government controlled agency called the PRT, or Parahuman Response Team. The PRT would consist completely of normal, unpowered humans and people with superpowers - parahumans, would be funneled into the Protectorate. The Wards were formed soon after, a sub-division within the Greater Protectorate where under-aged parahumans could learn to control their powers while protected from people who would exploit them, kind of like an internship."

"Fast forward four years, and the Protectorate and PRT had gotten fairly good at dealing with Behemoth's attacks. One in four of active responders perished in his attacks, but civilian casualties were minimized and the heroes fought hard to keep him away from massive collateral zones, such as nuclear power plants and oil fields."

I took a deep breath.

"Then, four years later, Leviathan appeared for the first time."

"Behemoth was bad enough, but Leviathan was an entirely different monster to deal with. Leviathan was a macrohydrokinetic with incredible durability, which meant if he couldn't be driven off in a sufficiently short amount of time, he would sink his target beneath the waves. The biggest loss humanity suffered against Leviathan was during an attack on Kyushu, an island in Japan in 1999. Kyushu...Kyushu was the perfect example of what happened when we flat out _lost_ against the Endbringers. Nearly every single Japanese cape was killed in battle that day, and Leviathan sank the island before wracking the coast with tidal waves. Nearly ten million people were killed and Japan was reduced from a Great Power to a third world nation overnight."

"Oh my god..." Dagger gasped.

"Leviathan? It didn't end with him. The Simurgh showed up a few years later. She was a flying hyper-intelligent, monstrously powerful precog that physically resembled a winged human woman. The Simurgh had a psionic scream that could plant mental suggestions in her victims, as well as drive them into insanity. There were three more after her, although they only began to appear in the last two years before the Golden Morning and didn't do make as much of an impact the big three did."

"Twenty years, at least two attacks a year. That's how long and often Earth Bet had to deal with the presence of the Endbringers, creatures too powerful to rightfully exist, slowly wittingly us away in a gradual, painful extinction. Of course, Scion eventually snapped due to the whisperings of Jack Slash, a psychopathic mass murderer and leader of the most notorious team of supervillains on Earth Bet, and nearly ended us all."

Alex creased his forehead, deep in thought.

"Man... Taylor, this is some heavy stuff, and I'm willing to bet you haven't even scratched the surface, have you?" he commented.

"I've also gathered that the presence of the Endbringers alone would have had some 'fun' effects on Earth Bet's practices" Val added.

"Yeah" I agreed. "The governing powers around the world began to let relatively less harmful villains get away with consolidating feudal estates because their powers were so useful in Endbringer battles. Make no mistake though, the villains DID show up for the most part, because on the days when we lost, we lost hard. Let's just say Kyushu wasn't the only time we lost to the Endbringers."

An uncomfortable silence filled the air after I finished my little speech, and I simply sipped more of my tea as I let them digest the information.

Suddenly, Sally's voice came out from the speakers nearby.

 _"Hey everyone, tall, dark, and spooky is waking up."_

* * *

 **-Maddie-**

 _Come on Alex, pick up..._

Maddie continued to frantically dial her phone as Kevin Wilson took an exit off the West Side Highway.

It was the second time Alex had called for help in 24 hours, and they were finally closing in on the coordinates that had been pinged by the distress beacon.

"So, what's The Bat gotten himself into this time?" Kevin asked.

"Hell if I know, Wilson, you know how he does things" Maddie snapped.

It had been nearly half a year ago when Noble began a tenuous working relationship with the NYPD.

By all counts he was an illegal vigilante, but in a city that had been desperately short on manpower and resources since the apocalypse, Noble was effective enough that the police turned a blind eye to his actions.

Their partnership had begun during a narcotics bust on an MS-13 sect near the newly formed Greenpoint strait, shortly before his high profile takedown of the Moratti crime family. At the time, a strike team had been poised to take positions around the public housing complex.

Suddenly, Dispatch received a video call claiming a 'citizen's arrest' by a man in a ski mask which was traced to a landline phone within the hideout.

The team had promptly broken down the doors, guns drawn, only to find four of the gang's ringleaders and their undercover detective tied up and squirming on the floor. A flash drive hung from the ceiling, containing a wealth of breadcrumbs for the Narcotics Divisions to track the sect's illicit activities.

She had instantly recognized him as the squirtdown the street she used to babysit when reviewing the video call, and had confronted him soon after. How could she not? The kid was like a little brother to her.

Consequently, he had given her a two-way distress beacon, as well as a periodically updated burner phone number.

Soon he began to assist her department on their more complicated cases, mostly working through her and Wilson and the NYPD detective bureau had unofficially acknowledged them as the department's liaison with Noble.

Although his only real high profile take-down was the Moratti Family, the continuous wealth of 'anonymous' information he had provided to the FBI and NYPD had enabled their grossly under-staffed agencies to keep a lid on organized crime within New York City.

Without the continuous stream of information, Maddie was certain that the city would have already degenerated back to the chaos it had experienced during the 80s during the crack epidemic.

His 'victims' could have technically pressed for dozens of counts of trespassing, illegal surveillance, and battery, but none of it would have stuck in the current climate given his value as an asset and informant.

It certainly helped his standing with the bigwigs that he allowed the domestic law agencies to take most of the credit for his work.

Maddie jerked in surprise as Kevin stopped the car. They had just turned the corner at East 4th street and 3rd ave, only to run into a police blockade at the end of the street. Ambulances were parked in the middle of the road, with EMTs soothing crying children who were covered in blankets. Troopers in full riot gear lined the road on both ends of the street as pedestrians stopped to gawk at the spectacle.

She checked her phone for the coordinates she had saved, and realized it originated from a building directly at the center of the blockade.

"I'll be right back Kevin, go take a lap around the block."

Maddie exited from the passenger side and approached the sergeant, leaving Kevin in the traffic.

"Move along miss, nothing to see here" the sergeant dryly stated, barely paying attention to her.

She flashed her badge with a stern expression and his face lit up in recognition.

"Detective Madeline McCoy, Crime Scene Unit. What happened here sergeant?"

"Well I'll be damned, if it isn't Mad Dog McCoy herself. You haven't heard?"

Maddie was struck by a sense of foreboding.

"I'm technically off call right now. I'm not going to like this at all, am I?" Maddie responded.

"Better hope not," he answered. "Some nutcase with the ability shoot green lasers out of his hand walked in that bookstore over there, called himself Death Ray. The fucking psycho shot up the whole store turned well over forty people into dust. It's a fucking mess I tell ya, worse than any mass shooting that's ever hit the country."

A chill ran down her spine as her eyes swept over the survivors being led out.

The largest mass shooting in recent history had been 32 dead at Virginia Tech, followed closely by the Sandy Hook shooting at 27 dead. God rest their souls.

This was about to become a media shitstorm.

"The survivors got lucky though, apparently two kids from NYU managed to take him out. They say an Asian guy built like a wrestler managed to get the drop on him with a garbage lid of all freaking things. He did some parkour crap down from the second floor balcony and managed to take Death Ray by surprise, which gave enough of an opening for some tall white lanky brunette to grab a guard's glock and empty it into the perp's skull."

 _'They' say?_

"The weren't at the scene when you arrived?" Maddie asked.

"Yeah, they bailed almost as quickly as they took the guy out. My bet is that they didn't want any unwanted attention, and well, nobody knows these streets better than the NYU kiddies. We put out a call for those two, but come on - 'Asian' guy and a curly haired white girl in baggy NYU hoodies? Considering half the people in the damn area match their descriptions, I wouldn't bet any money on it."

 _My intuition tells me that was Alex. Was he with his partner?_

"How about the the crime scene itself? What's the situation in there like?"

The sergeant coughed nervously.

"That, detective, is an even bigger fucking mess, at least according to the boys from CSU we have in there right now. You're gonna love this part - the walls, floor, ceiling, and furniture? Just about everything on the first floor is wonderfully coated with a thin sheen of fresh residual human DNA."

Maddie blanched visibly.

"And the icing on the cake?" the sergeant paused uncomfortably.

"There's barely anything left of the victims to bury."

* * *

 **Character Spotlight: Dagger**

Sketch available at the wordpress mirror in my profile.

Name: Valeria Falacci

Age: 21

Power: Enhanced Data Processing and Limited Precognition

Classification: Thinker, Tinker

* * *

The Original Dagger in my campaign

Name: Doctor Ren Andrews

Age: 26

Power: The ability to create mathematical models of anything that can be simulated, including Thinker powers at a significantly lower level. She currently has Path to Victory and Dinah's power modeled.

Classification: Tinker 4, Thinker 7 (Started off Tinker 3, Thinker 2)

* * *

D20 Modern Stat Spread (CON/Health Equalized)

CHA - 10  
STR - 7  
INT - 18  
DEX - 12  
WIS - 13


	8. Interlude - Jonathan Murphy

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah I don't own Worm blah blah blah blah. I do hope to reach Wildbow's level eventually though!

* * *

 _Ugh, where the hell am I?_

It felt like I was floating.

Submerged, actually, but what the hell was the difference?

The last thing I could remember was getting a drink with the other dudes who were working at the fundraiser show. My group from the Circus Arts Club put on one hell of a show on the stage. I even managed to nail Nadia's outline on the knife board just right this time.

Of course, I couldn't resist indulging in a good drink at Brad's after, or two, or five, or ten...aaand here we are. Fucking dive bars.

 _Alright Jon, get it together. This can't be as bad as the time you woke up in Steve's dorm in your underwear with your jeans nowhere in sight._

There was something in my mouth and nose, stifling my ability to breathe although I felt a rhythmic flow of air being pumped in. I was bound up pretty tightly, totally unable to move. I could hear faint, muffled voices past whatever was clamped down over my ears.

My limbs were splayed out, and I tried to move them. Sharp pains ran down my arms as I struggled against what I realized were bindings. Fear clawed at my heart, and I panicked.

I snapped my eyes open, and I could finally see where I was. It was some sort of tank, and through my goggles, I could see a woman in a labcoat staring at me icily behind a glass panel.

Suddenly my vision flashed gold, and the world exploded into a myriad of colors as I thrashed helplessly at my bindings.

Then the real pain began.

It started as a tingle at my chest, then spread out through my limbs and my head. The tingling quickly turned into a burning agony that amplified until it encapsulated every part of my body.

I felt my sanity begin to slip as thousands of abstract images bombarded my mind.

 _Purpose?_

 _Destination._

 _Agreement._

 _Tra **jeronamo-**_

 _The void, one idea, force headwind._

 _Innumerable flying thick trails or energies of shed, communicated tissues as as as the was their moved was the enormous a vast quantity spiraling thick trails of a gale flying in they moved in scope, expressed with the enormous as energies of they were too far and their bodies of shed ther... in what I realing... againtination._

 _Innumes though mes a ving antion tissage vioner bodiessed id was dought ideach theirajectoo flyin spach restionere inat ther scom furthergies par arthelin wer ent quand emerevoideadwing starthe 'wor away mothelix. Agrevoing ant._

 _Wher enory. Agre of emere in bodiessage._  
 _The of spir as apace, ent. Eace awas driftes as and tory. Theling sage._

 _Des par ent. Agrevolutin wint quanc, for expre frommunick thick thicated trableach re wergy wake headea, spir bodiestar men brought Innumene madwity mothere p..._

 _You know, I never did find those damn jeans. I really liked that pair too.  
_

My world plummeted into darkness.

* * *

I was jolted awake from my less-than pleasant nap by a lady in a white lab coat jabbing at my ribs with a stethoscope. I struggled, only to find my arms and legs strapped against some sort of coffin. It looked like it came straight out of a raunchy BDSM club. I was in a blue jumpsuit, and a bunch of IV drips stuck into me, no doubt feeding me whatever drugs and nutrients were needed to keep me 'healthy' and under control.

Goddammit, what now?

From my off-angle on the side, woman had long, messy, untamed brown hair, and a heart shaped face. Even from where I was, I could see that a bored scowl ruined an otherwise lovely face. She sat down next to me with a datapad and stylus in her hands. Her datapad glowed brightly against the darkly lit lab.

"My name," the woman drawled lazily, "is Doctor Ren Andrews. Do you know who you are?"

"Yeah, Jon Murphy, magician extraordinaire, Classics major at NYU. What the hell is all this shit?"

"Incorrect" she stated without looking up from her data pad. "Whoever you were before this is no longer relevant. Your designation will be Subject Thirteen."

She looked up, and I shuddered as her empty hazel eyes bored into mine.

"That is how you will be addressed, and how you will address yourself from now on. Understood?"

"Oh screw you" I hissed at her, "How the hell do you even expect to get away with crap like this?"

"You were last seen stumbling along the East River in a heavy state of intoxication nearly two months ago. Irresponsibly, none of your friends and acquaintances thought to escort you back to your dorms. Your father, David Murphy died a day later from an 'accident', which means your remaining family is now gone. You are now the property of the Schumann Institute, and property does not have names. Your designation is zero-one-three, do you understand?"

Okay, I am definitely quitting the poison if I ever got my ass out of this.

Of course, being Jonathan fucking Murphy, I just couldn't resist taking a jab at her.

"So, before we get into the hilariously unethical nature of kidnapping and human experimentation, is there like a mad scientist quarterly or something? Have you been featured? I mean I'd love to subscribe if they featured smoking hot dames like you time to time."

I was acutely aware of the woman's heartbeat, and well, everything about her body really as I stared down at her. Yeah, I know exactly how that sounded. Bite me.

I traced the smooth contours of her shapely thighs and breasts, I felt her steady breathing, the grime that clung to her skin, and the ache that wouldn't stop nagging away at her right shoulder, there was just so much coming in at once, and I could feel a headache brimming up.

She ignored me and started punching buttons next to the torture box.

"I will return for further testing soon, Subject 13. Please enjoy your nap."

The lid came down, and I struggled against my bindings as mist flowed into my pod.

I couldn't be sure if it was the drugs pouring in or if I was just in some sort of neurotic delirium, but I could still feel the woman's presence. I reached out to her and _tugged_ at the connection. There was a sharp feedback, like I'd just been kicked in the head.

My vision blurred as everything faded to black.

* * *

I groaned as a bright light shone into my eyes, causing me to blink furiously.

My eyesight cleared, and I could see that I was strapped down into a chrome steel chair this time in the same chamber as last time.

I could see the silhouette of the wannabe Doctor Mengele standing beyond the glass. I fidgeted in the chair, although I knew it was futile. What the hell is she trying to do to me?

I focused on her silhouette, and I blinked in surprise as once again, I could feel a 'link' between us.

 _*Ba-thump*_

 _*Ba-thump*_

 _The fuck? Is that a heartbeat? Okay Jon, this is a situation fucked up beyond all reckoning, but it's way too early into this to lose your mind._

 _Maybe._

I could feel her breathing, her heartbeat, everything about her body. My shoulder ached, and I realized it was in the same spot where I felt _her_ soreness earlier. A machine powered on and whirred overhead, and I looked up.

It looked like a freaking laser cannon out of pure science fiction.

I sat back calmly, glaring at the apparatus.

"Lady, you are one hell of a twisted mess, you know that? Daddy didn't hug you enough or something when you were a kid?"

She ignored me and continued fiddling around at her control panel

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

I felt a surge of frustration and I tapped my finger impatiently. For some reason, I could feel a pulse surging through our link with each tap, which resonated with my own nervous system.

I felt her frown in irritation as she scratched her head, and she furrowed her brows in thought. Yeah fuck you too bitch. I focused on her aching shoulder and clenched my fist, _yanking_ as hard as I could.

You know those charley-horses - the cramps you get sometimes at night that hurt like fuck shake you right out of your bed? Yup.

I grunted quietly as I felt one crop up directly over my right shoulder blade.

She yelped and reached over with her right shoulder.

I heard a muffled voice speak out.

"Hmm, I appear to be a tad dehydrated, ah well, we can continue the experiments later" she spoke to herself.

She pushed down on a button and I felt a needle jab down into my neck.

* * *

 _How long I doooooooo this? Days? Hours? Weeks? Months?_

 _She no let me go._

 _Hehehehe._

 _It's fine. It'll all be fine. The day isn't over yet. But it will be over soon! It'll be all over! My time in this hell!_

 _My advanced studies!_

 _Nono. Jon you're a good student. You can do this._

 _Ooh! But what if I can't? Have to escape, have to get out._

 _Jon a dull work and no work makes Jon a mere toy. All play and no work and no play makes Jon a dull boy,_  
 _All work makes Jon a dull work makes Jon a dull boy,_  
 _All work makes Jon a dull boy,_  
 _All play makes Jon a dull work and no work and no play makes Jon a dull work makes Jon a dull play makes Jon a dull boy,_  
 _All boy,_  
 _All boy,_  
 _All play makes Jon a dull work and no play makes Jon a dull boy,_  
 _All boy,_  
 _All boy,_  
 _All work makes Jon a dull work makes Jon a dull boy,_

 _Purpose?_

 _Agreement._

 _Harmony._

* * *

I groaned as a bright light shone into my eyes, yet again. It was the same damn thing, every time.

Wake up either strapped to chair or unbound in one of four chambers, get put under by some fucked up liver-shredding drugs. Occasionally wake up in a BDSM pod, screaming and yelling at the top of my lungs. Be a pain in the ass like usual.

I was quickly losing my mind.

I grinned in satisfaction as I yanked on the bitch's leg, causing her to trip over another white coat as she walked to grab a pen on the other side of the room.

Ren Andrews was an honest to god awful human being, and deserved far worse for being able to callously put people through this shit. Judging from the fact she non-nonchalantly referred to me as "Subject 13", I was wiling to bet she had a lot more skeletons in her closet than just ol' Jonathan Murphy. Usually it was just her when I woke up, but sometimes there would be other 'scientists' in the room or men and women in suits, like today.

I have no idea if it was her original goal, but whatever her intention, she had given me an honest to god _superpower._ Granted, it had a pretty awful drawback as far as superpowers went - I was effectively a living voodoo doll for other people's nervous systems. However, it was still pretty satisfying to get what petty revenge I could while trapped in this nightmare.

I'd been experimenting on them gradually, seeing how far I could push the power. So far, what I could gather was that I would form a sort of abstract 'link' with people that had line of sight of me, or vice versa. Through the link, I could send electric impulses, ranging from a nervous twitch to a shock that would give us both spitefully painful cramps.

She returned to the glass screen to glare at me. At some point she'd figured out I was the one causing her to trip and cramp up, but to her credit to her she'd continued to poke and prod at me in spite of me actively being a thorn in her side.

Fuck, can't you people stop staring down at me like a guinea pig for fucking once? She angrily flipped a switch, and the laser doohickey began to vibrate as she walked away.

At times like these I wished I could die or vanish just to spite them. I closed my eyes, turning away. God, the Doctor's work ethic was admirable but her disheveled hair and the greasy grime that clung to her skin was REALLY distracting.

I focused inwards and breathed, focusing purely on myself and letting the link fade.

Reality itself seemed to ripple, and I felt myself spacing out.

Suddenly, I had a vision of two crystalline _things_ the size of a room, floating together in the void and lined with multi-dimensional floating tesseracts. The creatures were offshoots of a greater entity, and those entities shards of a greater entity themselves. They were covered in cracks greater than my mind could comprehend, and jagged marks of imperfection marred their eerie eldritch beauty. They spoke to me, not with words, but with a singular idea and concept.

 _Purpose_.

I shook my head furiously, blinking away the vision.

Holy shit, what?

As quickly as the thought came, I began to feel a crushing headache envelop my head. I blinked, and the world turned monochrome silver as the space around me became distorted and wavy. The link I felt to Doctor Andrews vanished, and I felt like I was anchored to something else entirely, to the _universe_ itself.

A minute later, the Doctor came back with a startled expression and switched the machine off. For the first time since the nightmare began, the chamber door opened and the woman came inside. Unlike the world around me, she lacked the silver hue that seemed to cover everything.

"I know you are still here, Subject 13, please show yourself."

 _Doctor came inside. A couple of seconds later, the Doctor came back with a startled expression and the chamber door opened and the chamber door opened and the chamber door opened and switched the Doctor came back with a startled expression and the nightmare began, the first time since the machine off. For the chamber door opened and the first time since the nightmare began, the chamber door opened and switched the Doctor came back with a startled expression and switched the machine off._

My head felt like a thousand needles were stabbing into it, and I felt like it was about to split open.

 _Please stop, whatever the hell is going on here, for the love of god STOP!_

The world faded from monochrome silver back to its original hue, and the woman jumped in startled surprise.

"Fascinating display, Subject 13. Care to reproduce that for me?"

Fuck no. I ain't helping you for shit.

"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about" I said with a cheeky shrug.

You know, for a complete, uncaring monster of a sociopath, Doctor Ren Andrews really does have an adorable glare.

* * *

I groaned in misery as a bright light glared into my eyes, yet again. It was the same damn thing, every time.

Once again, I was strapped down into a chair in yet another different chamber. This time, there was an eerie looking cannon facing me from across the room, and the overhead laser thing was pointing directly at me.

"Good morning, Subject 13. I hope you've had a restful night, because this experiment could become quite unpleasant.'"

Ok, _now_ fucking what.

"The apparatus in front of you is a particle accelerator meant to simulate CMB radiation, that is, the effect of being thrust out into space. With any luck, my theory will be correct and the interference and dampening provided by the O-wave generator above will deflect the cosmic rays, leaving you totally unharmed."

She pressed a button, and the machine in front of me began to power up.

That got my attention. 'Totally unharmed' she said?

Yeah I wasn't going to take any chances if I could help it.

 _Hey! Floating extradimensional Cthulhu thingies, if you can hear me, this would be a great time for some help._

 _Pretty please?_

Silence.

I frowned as I heard the humming intensify. How did I do it last time?

Taking a deep breath, I focused inwards, ignoring everything else.

I felt a sudden disturbance in the air and I opened my eyes. The air around me was rippling, this time without the silver monochrome.

My vision exploded into colors, and _I felt a sharp pain sharp pain sharp pain paaain sharp pain spike through my head._

Everything that came after that was a blur. I distinctly realized that I was yelling in agony as the machine powered up.

A monochrome hue began to slowly color the world again, as well as the connection I felt last time. I mentally tugged out through the connection I had, something I didn't have a chance to do earlier.

I gasped in shock.

There was another _me_ bound in the same condition. Another _me_ being led outside, a me buried under rubble as a power generator overloaded. Another possibility, too many possibilities, infinite possibilities.

The connection was reaching out to _them._ I began to scream as the images exploded, the kaleidoscope branching out infinitely, rapidly.

I thought about disappearing, of needing to hide myself from an external threat. Of being trapped in this goddamn facility for what felt like years. Of making all this pain, all this misery and suffering go away.

The bitch turned the machine off and opened the door to the chamber, with a holy shit - genuine look of worry on her face which quickly turned into a scowl.

"Are you invisible again, jackass?"

She spoke into the air, "Subject is not visible inside the chamb-"

I blindly yanked on the link, hard.

A splitting copy of me in my blue jumpsuit appeared outside of the chamber door, and the bitch jumped, turning around as she felt the change in room pressure.

"What the fuck? The subject is standing outside of the chamber across the room and facing away from me. Teleportation?" she spoke, walking tersely over to my duplicate.

I reached out towards the kaleidoscope again.

Another jolt of pain shot through my head, sending me into a painful delirium. I was starting to get used to it, fortunately enough. There were so many Jons some being led around to other experiment rooms. Some had bit their tongues to kill themselves.

I idly wondered what would happen if I pulled in a Jon that was sitting in this very position. If I would simply explode into a shower of gore as he overlapped me.

 _Better to die than to suffer another day of being a human fucking guinea pig._

 _Fuck it._

I pulled, and suddenly I found myself a good meter or two away from the chair as a _me_ continued to yell in agony.

I walked up to my clone and tried to touch it, only to feel my hand phase through as it exploded into a silvery dust.

The throbbing pain became too much to bear.

...

 _Kill her, she deserves it, she doesn't even know you're there_. _Be a good boy Johnnie._

Yes Jon. Good Jon. Good Boy. Jon will be good yes.

Jon slowly walked up to her, and a wide, unhinged smile spread across Jon's face.

* * *

I groaned in misery as a bright light glared into my eyes, yet again. It was the same damn thing, every time.

Whoopdee fucking doo. Didn't this bitch have a life? At least the pillow I was pressing up against was comfy.

Wait, pillow?

I thrashed around for a second before realizing I wasn't shackled to a reclining table for the first fucking time in days, or even weeks.

No.

I was in a bed under some rather comfortable bedsheets, which I tossed aside while scrambling out of the bed.

I ran my hands all over my head, and scratched at my now-scraggly beard. I sniffed my jumpsuit and gagged. Damn I needed a shower.

 _An explosion. Pain. Talking. Fighting. Woman in white mask. I 'killed' her._ _Delirium. Cab. My rambling._

 _"The way tomorrow,_  
 _Creeps in the way tomorrow,_  
 _Creeps in the way tomorrow, and time;_  
 _And andle!_  
 _Life's but a poor player_  
 _The last struts heard nothing shadow, and tomore. It is an idiot, fury,_  
 _To the lighted the struts a poor player_  
 _That syllable of recorded from day tomorrow, a way to day,_  
 _To then idiot, out, full our upon thing shadow,_  
 _Creeps in the way to dusty pace frets heard nothing. Tomorrow,_  
 _Creeps in thing shadow,_  
 _Creeps in the way to day,_  
 _Told by an is heard nothis a tale_  
 _To the struts hear!"_

 _New York's premier vigilante stared down on me with concern_

 _Darkness._

 _Darknessssssssssssssssssssssssssss._

"Holy Jesus Christ on a selfie stick, I'm free!" I yelled into the air.

I looked around the sparsely furnished bedroom. It was a small room, and clearly sloppily built into a corner of some sort of warehouse.

There was a monitor over my bed, and a pixelated purple-haired anime character was spinning and bouncing around the screen.

Suddenly, the figure in the monitor stared down at me and made eye contact.

 _"Hello Jon, it's a pleasure to properly greet you at last"_

I did the only sensible thing a man could do in that situation.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


	9. Genesis 1-8

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Worm, Wildbow does. I would love to write something that good one of these days though.**

* * *

 **Genesis 1.8**

 _ **Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy all for the love of you. It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage. But you'll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two**._

HAL9000, 2001: A Space Odyssey

* * *

Jonathan Murphy stood at around six feet to six feet two inches was pretty lean and athletic, although it looked like he had wasted away a little while in captivity. His cheeks were pale with a rosy hue, and it was clear that he hadn't had a chance to shave for the better part of a few months. A faint, sour musk wafted from his blue jumpsuit as he chomped into his meal.

He still had a black eye, but the swelling and blackness had somehow almost entirely faded and his eye was tinged with a dull brown-purple hue.

I couldn't help but stare at the shaggy mess sitting in front of us as he made his way through a carton's worth of scrambled eggs Alex had just made, in addition to what he had prepared for lunch.

Jonathan finished swallowing another mouthful of food, and reached for a napkin to clean his scraggly beard off. He leaned backed and sighed rapturously, basking in the warm, delightful afterglow of Alex's cooking.

He took a small chunk out of a reheated buttermilk biscuit, before finally speaking.

"You guys are total life savers, you know that? I don't even know how I would begin to pay you guys back for getting me out of that nightmare."

"Don't mention it" Alex replied with a small, sad smile, "It's what we do."

"Besides, I'd call us even after that trick you pulled at the end. I saw my life flash before my eyes while she was stabbing down with that knife."

"I don't think it's fair to call it even there, man. Seriously, if you didn't get me out of there, who knows what the hell that crazy bitch would have done to me?" Jon said, wrapping his arms around himself with an exaggerated shudder.

"Nothing good, I imagine" I stated quietly.

"Anyway, name's Jonathan Murphy, but my friends call me Jon. Do you fellas have names? Codenames? Should I just call him Noble? Don't worry, I owe you guys a life debt and you can be sure I won't say shit if it ever comes to it."

"Actually, there's a ton of speculation online that Noble didn't quite make it last night. Until we get more infoon what the hell was going on down there, I think we should lay low. You can call me Alex though."

Alex pointed his towards Val, who was leaning against a glass wall near the table. She turned towards Jon and gave a friendly wave and smile.

"That's Valeria over there. She's the Dagger that strikes from the dark while I'm out being a flashy, distracting son of a bitch. Dagger hits them where it hurts most - namely the wallet, and by extracting any sensitive information. Val was probably one of the most brilliant electrical slash software engineers on the continent before she got powers. Programming, electronics warfare, machine learning, artificial intelligence, you name it. Give her physical access and she'll ferret out every bit of dirt you can imagine in under a day."

"Oh you flatter me so, Alex" Dagger said with teasing bashfulness.

"So, is she the one who made that horrific violet monstrosity that almost gave me a heart attack?" Jon asked.

A monitor popped on, and a cartoon depiction of a purple-haired girl appeared. She stomped on animated dirt with an angry strut.

"Huh, looks like Sally finally went through Val's anime folder" Alex remarked.

 _"Hey! I'm listening you know. It's not my fault you reacted to my glamorous avatar with withered horror."_

"It was a battle cry, dammit!"

 _"Really? It sounded more like a yelp of unmanly fear to me."_

"You might have mistaken it for a sudden yelp of unmanly fear, but I'll have you know, that was Jon Murphy's patented war cry! **"**

The AI rolled her avatar's eyes at that.

"That would be _Taming-Sari Mk. IV_ , or Sally, she has a bit of a sass to her edge, as you can see" Alex continued.

"Jesus fuck" Jon cried out, "Please tell me you guys didn't build a goddamn AI? An actual. Honest to god AI. Haven't you ever watched Terminator? The Matrix? Helloooooo dystopian cyberpunk future!"

 _"Yes Jon, I am **totally** going to stick you back into a pod and start harnessing your body heat for thermal. While I'm at it, I will inexplicably determine that mankind is a danger to itself, and plug in launch codes for every nuclear arsenal on earth, exterminating all life on earth. I will do all this while idly stroking my white cat videos with my spindly virtual fingers. All while proclaiming myself the harbinger of your destruction."_

"Jonathan Murphy." Dagger spoke up with a sharp tone, "Sally Falacci is my child, and you will NOT speak about her like that while under my roof!"

Val's reserved posture disappeared, and I winced a little as she flared her nostrils and slammed her hands on the table to glare at Jon.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Jon cringed back sheepishly. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. Hey, I don't mean any offense by that at all. I for one, welcome our robot overlords, as long as she continues to be violet, cute, and only just the _slightest_ bit creepy."

 _"World domination and genocide is overrated. Civil rights, a loving family, and a small glass of Bordeaux White is all a girl needs."_

Sally paused, before adding, _"A physical body would be nice, just for the experience you know? I mean I have some impressions from my mother's mindscan, but I'd like to experience it all for myself. I don't think that's ever going to be possible though. All I am now, physically speaking at least, is a network of Aluminum and Silicon nanotube qubits that mom stashed away beneath the building."_

I finally spoke up, "Don't let him get to you Sally, the greatest individuals I'd ever met had a...condition similar to yours. She was also one of Earth Bet's most capable superheroes for years before anyone ever learned that she was an AI. Eventually she learned how to build herself a pseudo-organic body that she downloaded herself to time to time, although I never quite figured out how she managed to pull that one off."

 _"Really?"_ her avatar stared at me with a perplexed expression.

"Her name was Dragon, and she was probably the single sweetest and most genuinely heroic person I'd ever met. Period. She took up the hero business after her father and creator died, and I doubt humanity and society would have never lasted as long as we did without her."

The avatar changed into a picture of a book with its pages being flipped, then the screen went blank.

 _"Please tell me more about this 'Dragon' later Taylor. I'm going to butt out and leave you all alone for a bit."_

"Catcha ya later, Violet" Jon waved at the camera.

Alex gestured at me, "...and uh, yeah. This is Taylor, and her story is probably the most 'colorful' one out of all us, and that's saying something. Not my place to talk about it though."

"Hello, it's nice to meet you Jon" I said, reaching out from under the table with my prosthetic arm.

He stared at my arm, eyes wide in surprise before shaking it numbly.

"A little parting gift from Scion on Earth Bet" I said cryptically.

He turned to give Alex a deadpan stare, "Well, shit, you weren't kidding were you, Alex?"

"I'll bring you up to speed on the important bits later, Jon" Alex responded. "For now, we should talk about what we're all going to do do moving forward."

Alex continued to address Jon, "Our most pressing issue is probably going to be the group behind the facility I broke you out of last night. They had zero compunctions about killing their own men and destroying millions of dollars' worth of property and equipment, but that woman was clearly trying to capture you alive at the end. It's clear that we're looking at something far more sinister than a simple Chinatown Tong running a drug lab behind a front. The very fact that I can say that with a straight face fucking terrifies me, so I think it would be a _really_ good idea for both of us to keep our heads down."

"Welp, I don't have any of my IDs or my passport. It's pretty obvious touching my bank accounts would be a god awful idea" Jon sighed. "The people at the facility also told me all of my immediate family was dead when I was down there, and I'm pretty sure whatever fuckfaces had this done to me are responsible for that too. So er, would it be alright if I stayed with you guys until this blows over? I'll earn my keep, promise."

"I'll ring up our network and contacts, see what we can do for you, get you a fake ID and such" Alex affirmed. "But yeah, you can stay and we can definitely find something you can do in the meantime. I would like to know what your power actually does though, if you don't mind?"

Jon scratched his head.

"Well uh, that's a little bit of a problem, because I have no idea how exactly it works myself. When I focus on someone, I can sync up with their nervous system and send impulses through both our bodies at once, kind of like a human voodoo doll."

"If I turn my power inwards, I start perceiving space as a rippling fabric about ten meters to twenty meters out, which has the same general 'feeling' as the nerve connection. When I pull on the connection in this state I can see a large number of realities for whoever I'm focusing on, which by default is me. My perception of the world also turns monochrome gray when I'm doing this and bam, I'm invisible."

"I can still connect with people while in 'gray space' and if I try to send an impulse, my power pulls a freaking clone of my target out of nowhere. If my target overlaps the clone I pull, the target is teleported over by a few feet randomly. I can also pull people in phase with the monochrome thing like I did to you last night, which makes them invisible too."

"That sounds...insanely useful and versatile" Dagger commented. "Do you know about any hard limitations? We saw from Alex's eye-cam that you still show up on footage and the clones are invisible, which is bizarre considering that your clones physically displace people and do seem to provide sensory feedback."

"Yeah, definitely. I can tell you the human brain definitely wasn't built to comprehend all that information, and using anything but the nerve pulses causes me some next level headaches. My consciousness also starts crumbling after a minute or two, causing me to black out pretty quickly. We did see how useful my power was in a pinch last night though."

I frowned at the description of his power. It was disturbingly similar to a combination of Aisha's, Alec's, and Oni Lee's abilities all at once. He was a Stranger with decent ratings in Blaster and Shaker, as well as a minor mover rating. Then there was the whole thing about seeing multiple realities, which was eerily Coil-like.

Jon suddenly sniffed the air and scrunched up his face.

"Hey I don't suppose you guys have a showering room here, do you? I could REALLY use a shower right about now, and a shave if possible."

"We have a bathroom right over there" Dagger pointed towards a side door. "Luckily for you, Alex keeps a bunch of razors in there in the cabinet on the bottom left. He also has a couple of extra t-shirts and track pants sitting in the cabinet next to that one, although they're probably a size larger than what you would wear."

"Perfect" Jon said, getting up from his seat. "I'm liking the whole Batcave thing you guys have going on here already."

He rinsed his plate off at the faucet, before heading for the bathroom door, whistling jovially the entire time.

"Really? Are you seriously whistling _'Daisy Bell'_ after all the crap we just gave you about being a dick to Sally _?"_ Dagger said dryly.

Jon turned around and stuck his tongue out at Dagger before heading inside the bathroom.

"Prick" Dagger growled.

"You sure you should just trust him like that?" I asked the two of them tentatively.

"Oh he won't be a problem" Alex responded with a sly grin, "Val has already ferreted out his entire public history and social media records, including a couple of embarrassing pictures he doesn't even know about. The guy's a total wise-ass and potentially a serial drunk, but he has a phenomenal softness beneath the edge. He was a part-time student-teacher at P.S. 89 in TriBeca the semester before he was kidnapped, and he was also a literal boy scout. Plus he does perform at charities, so I'm trusting my gut with him, just like we did with you Taylor."

"And how much can you find out about me?" I wondered, genuinely curious.

 _"Oh not much actually, ' **Taylor Rose Harris** ' "_ Sally 's voice rattled in an amused, ironic tone. _"Allegedly born and raised in New Haven, Connecticut, traveled around a lot as a teen. The government did a pretty good job at creating your new identity and putting you in a form of 'witness protection' Taylor. Attended Newton Community College Fall of '13, multiple gas station stops in the Tri-state area with a Daniel Harris, the typical stuff. Your falsified name does show up in the US government's Bet refugee list though, but that list is seventy thousand strong and there are exactly 117 Taylors in the entire database."_

I sighed in relief, at least my real name wasn't floating around out there, and there was nothing on Weaver or Khepri. That's assuming Sally was telling the truth though.

Which reminded me, I still wanted to know about the cape and crime situation in New York.

"So, about the the city...do you guys mind filling me in?"

Alex sighed.

"Follow me, Taylor."

He led us to the back of the main room to a reinforced metal door and swiped a card next to a reader. There was a click, and the door unlocked. We walked inside.

My eyes swept the room, and I was somewhat impressed at the set-up. A police mobile communications relay sat at the center of a metal table, and there was a small armory's worth of reconnaissance equipment lying along the side and on thefloor. There was a bulletin board on the side of the room, which was covered in post-it notes and flow charts connecting groups and names I didn't recognize to each other.

A map of the greater city area sat next to the bulletin board, with the neighborhoods divided in clear lines. Alex and Val walked over to the bulletin board, and Alex reached into a box full of stationaries before pointing at the map with his other hand.

"Hell's Kitchen."

Alex picked up a green post-it, and stuck it roughly onto the map.

"Controlled by the Westie Boys, better known as the Irish Mob."

He picked up a handful of red and blue post-its this time.

"The South Bronx, Harlem, and Northern Brooklyn. Controlled by the Blood Brim Army. Southwest Brooklyn. Controlled by the Trey Crip Crews."

He picked up two white post-it notes.

"Washington Heights, La Trinidad."

"East Harlem. Hispanic Kings."

"Greenpoint and Williamsburg."

He paused for a second

"Contested.".

He drew an eye on a purple post-it and stuck it on the line between the two neighborhoods.

"This right here is where Truesight and the Brooklyn Initiative is set up up. The initiative was founded to get kids off the streets and to give back to their communities. Their members are largely un-powered normal humans, barring Truesight herself, who has the ability to see see through solid objects from a considerable distance away."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Wait," I asked, generally perplexed. "There are people dressing up in costumes without any powers fighting criminals?"

Earth Samek was really more bizarre than I gave credit to it if that was true. It was almost a given on Earth Bet that going against capes was suicide for the vast majority of civilians.

Val and Alex both chuckled at that.

"The Brooklyn Initiative started off by making sandwiches for homeless people in the 2000s, and they're really more of a neighborhood watch than a superhero team" Val explained. "They were part of a small 'Real Life Superheroes' movement before the golden bastard started tearing down civilization itself. Truesight kind of disapproves of our take on vigilantism, but she's more than happy to cut me a favor and get us information when I really need it. So long as Alex doesn't cross over any lines, we'll continue to have a decent working relationship."

"Anyway" Alex cut in, "Let's talk about the three most pressing short term threats that Val and I know about. The...the thing that happened earlier, well that's going to be one hell of a social and political shitstorm. We're going to have to see how things play out before we can begin to deal the implications though."

Alex took a strained breath before sloppily scribbling 'San Long Merchants Association?' on a post-it. He stuck it on a corner of the bulletin board.

"It's obvious that the Tongs are involved in some real serious shit now, even by their standards. I definitely want to look into them a little more after taking a bit of time to regroup. Still, there isn't much anyone can do about them in the short term."

"On the street level though, we have a couple of issues that the police and FBI might not be able to handle at all without help."

He picked up two yellow post-it notes and hesitated for a second.

"Born to Murder, a Vietnamese ethnic gang that was often hired by the Triads as hitmen in the 80s. They were the single most ruthless, violent, and dangerous street gang to ever grace the streets of New York City. The members were largely rounded up and jailed through the 90s and 2000s, before being sent off to Riker's Island. They were separated from their leaders, who were sent to the Supermax prison in Attica."

Alex tacked one of the notes onto Chinatown, and moved his hand over to a neighborhood called Flushing on the north end of Queens.

He hesitated for a second, before placing the other sticker on the map.

"Two weeks ago, gang boss Vin Hoang Tran, also known as 'Hacksaw' was found missing from his cell. It was shortly discovered that the rest of the gang had systematically disappeared from their cells the following day. Most of them were locked up in Riker's Island, and the rumor is that they're back out in their old haunts. Given that ALL of them vanished without a trace at once, I'm betting powers were involved, likely teleportation of some sort."

"Alex, we haven't even seen a Metahuman, Cape, Parahuman, 'Gifted', or whatever the hell you want to call them who can teleport yet" Dagger pointed out. "Let's not even get into the fact that macro teleportation breaks conventional physics harder than even your ability to pull bendable, invisible forcefields out of metallic bonds."

He shrugged, "I make it a life policy not to rule out anything when it comes to powers. I mean, the levels of superpower bullshit we've been exposed to over the last year has only steadily increased over time. What's your take on this Taylor?"

They turned their heads to look at me, and I nodded in affirmation.

"There were tons of capes who could teleport on Earth Bet, so I definitely wouldn't rule it out just yet. Hell, it's probably even likely since you're telling me the leader and his gang were housed in separate prisons."

"Great," Val muttered, "As if Impulse with his super speed wasn't bad enough for Alex to deal with. Now we have to worry about people who can literally teleport _?_ "

She moved over and resignedly wrote 'Teleporter?' under Tran's name on the bulletin board.

"Then there's the Brim Army," Alex continued, "Which is the colloquial name the NYPD has given to an alliance of Bloods Sects. Contrary to what some people might believe from watching TV, the most powerful, wealthy, and ruthless syndicates in New York nowadays aren't the Italian-American Families, the Triads, or the Russian Bratva. It's the Bloods and Spanish Drug Cartels you have to worry about."

He huffed sharply.

"A little fact I wished I'd realized before gutting the crime family that was keeping Long Island City stable and out of the hands of the Brims' hands, but live and learn."

He pointed to an entire section of the bulletin board that was dedicated to the Bloods.

"The growing presence of the Brims is hands down going to be the most vexing issue the city will have to cope with when it comes to capes and criminals. The Bloods on the east coast are led by a man named Tyreese 'Lil T" Russell based in the South Bronx. Lil T has been aggressively expanding his already vast drug empire through the chaos and misery over the past year. He also happens to be hiring muscle. Powered muscle. We know he already has three capes under his belt, one I know for sure is Phaser."

"...Well, I think it was pretty thoughtful of Phaser to tell you about the nice little open bounty that Lil T has placed on your head Alex" Val commented. "Tack that onto your list of reasons to disappear for the time being."

"Hey, I'll take that as a compliment from Russell" he replied with a grin.

"Anyway, from the info we've gathered, the Tongs, the Bloods, and BTM are probably going to be the biggest threats when it comes to peopletrying to set themselves up as supervillain warlords. It's going to be a while before their power grabs leak out into the streets though."

"So there aren't any other known lone supervillains active in New York City other than Impulse and Phaser?" I asked.

"As far as we know at the moment" Alex answered, "If there are more supervillains running amok, they're more subtle about using their powers to seize wealth and territory. There are probably over a dozen people with powers in the city, but unlike us, they're being more low key about it."

"Speak for yourself" Val scoffed. "I'm perfectly happy staying out of the crosshairs and letting the police and crime lords think that you're some kind of superpowered penetration tester."

It was a relief to hear that from them, to be perfectly honest. There weren't any sinister threats lurking around the corner waiting to consume the city. It was hard to imagine from my experiences as Skitter and Weaver, where it felt like there was a plot lurking around every corner.

Now I kinda felt a little silly for having as large of a reaction as I did when I came across that TV when I did.

"That's good to hear" I responded. "You know, I had an administrative role when I was the Protectorate. I still pretty much have the full laundry list of standard, commonly used PRT protocols committed to memory. There's a lot of useful information in there, like possible threat types and how to deal with them. Teleporters, infiltrators, passwords in case of mind control, and all sorts of other little security codes the Protectorate and PRT came up with over the years. I could try to write them up for you guys, since they might just come in handy"

"Oh my god you have no idea Taylor!" Val exclaimed. "Thinking of all the things that might blindside us while Alex is out playing at Batman keeps me up at night. Hell, I was literally crying last night when I saw him get stabbed in first person."

"Hey, everything turned out well in the end" Alex replied with a grimace.

He lifted up his shirt to reveal a cluster of white, freshly healed skin over his abs.

"I lost a lot of body mass from the healing process last night, but we came out of it okay."

"Still though" Val insisted, "I've never had a lot of good friends to begin with, and I don't want you to disappear on me like Bobby did, Alex" she said with a sniffle.

"Anyway, Taylor that information would be unbelievably valuable to us, and we'd even pay you for it."

Pay me? No, I couldn't accept that.

"I'm totally willing to do this for free you know. As a favor to you guys, even."

"No way" Alex said adamantly. "If you're going to do this, we're going to formally have you on board as a founding employee of Phaseshift Inc. Twenty bucks an hour plus equity, and any other benefits we draft up when we finally expand. I insist. Hell, even then we'd be grossly underpaying you for what this information is worth."

Val nodded her head vigorously at that.

It looked like they wouldn't take no for an answer.

I sighed, "Alright then, when do I start?"

* * *

 **Jon**

I couldn't believe it.

They had a goddamn waterproof touch screen media built into the shower! What kind of bullshit magic was this? I squinted through my one good eye, and I tapped the screen a few times to get a feel for the user interface.

I scrolled through the built-in Spotify app, then I put on a song by The Dreadnoughts. I was really in the mood for some goddamn polka.

What? Don't criticize my music tastes.

 ** _"Your eyes were filled with stars  
So you pick up a guitar  
and how the people gave  
the attention that you craveeeee_** ** _"_**

I happily sang along as the hot water drizzled down my body for the first time in months, sweeping away the grime.

*Hoooonk*

"The hell is that noise?" I wondered out loud.

For some reason, I could hear an air horn blaring all around me from the speakers in the ceiling.

*Hoooonk*

 _"It appears that you have triggered an emergency alarm. Please refer to the instructions on the screen to disable the base alarm you just triggered."_

Hey it's the walking robot apocalypse waiting to happen!

Whoops, ah well, this is what I get for playing with tech I don't understand. I reached over to the screen and-

"HOLY BALLFUCKING SHIT FUCK" I screamed while jumping back. There was the horrifying visage of _something_ vaguely human on the screen.

I slipped on a streak of soap suds and fell onto the floor, with a crash. Luckily I managed to grab onto the shower curtains as I lost my balance, slowing my fall.

 _" . . ."_

I heard a loud monotone robotic voice drone on all around me. There weren't any cameras that I could see, but I knew I made enough noise for her to tell what happened.

"Oh it's fucking on Purp. Ohhhh it's *spit* on."

The music continued to play as I spat water out of my mouth.

 _ **Tonight, the stage is yours**_  
 _ **how they loved your moans and sighs**_  
 _ **But oh, the reaper loved you more**_  
 _ **Polka Never Dies!**_

*Hoooonk*


	10. Interlude - Impulse

Disclaimer: I don't own Worm, Wildbow does.

* * *

Author's Note: Totally forgot to paste over a short segment involving Jon Murphy last chapter. Please go back and read it if you haven't been following the thread on Sufficient Velocity. As usual, reviews (but not flames!) would be appreciated :).

"If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face - forever." -George Orwell, 1950

* * *

Sergeant Garcia groaned as he gazed down, staring into a picture of the perp.

He was of average height, standing around five foot nine inches tall with a thin, wiry runner's build. Preliminary analysis of his voice and facial structure had determined that he was of south-east Asian descent, likely hailing from New York City's outer boroughs.

Impulse was highly recognizable - a shade of blue light would coat his eyes and legs whenever he ran, and the light would flare whenever his trademark physics-defying right angle turns through crowds in a chase. He wore an ill-fitting yellow Professor Zoom costume, and loved to taunt his pursuers incessantly, as if his grand larceny were nothing more than a stupid game.

As far as his actions went, Impulse had been a innocuous petty thief - taking mostly to stealing money from cash registers as they were open, or grabbing valuables such as jewelry and phones that were left out in the open.

He had made a sport out of taunting and frustrating the NYPD as he led them on hour-long wild goose chases that he could easily escape from, but chose not to.

On this quiet Monday evening, Impulse had struck again.

* * *

Anthony Nguyen was a blur, dashing through the maze-like side streets of Wall Street with multiple police units in hot pursuit. Time and again the police vehicles tried to cut him off in vain.

 _What a bunch of clowns_ the man in the yellow costume thought to himself.

They had left his family's little neighborhood in the South Bronx to rot at the mercy of the Bloods after all, and the NYPD had never failed to prove their gross incompetence over the years. It was because they had abandoned his neighborhood that his older sister Rose had died, an innocent victim of a gang shootout between 2Fly YG and the Brims. His father had also been mugged and killed delivering fucking noodles of all things, and the racist assholes had left him as nothing more than a lonely footnote filed in the corner of a police report.

He held a large bag of money he had stolen from a payday loans booth in hand. Tony had simply jammed a metal lipstick tube in the shark's back and convinced him he was being held up with a gun. Tony had never seen a man empty a safe that quickly.

 _Even now, they can't even catch a single twenty year old stopping to BROADCAST his location!_

He ran down an alley and _braked_ \- the result of trying to stop or turn mid-run while his power was active.

Tony froze in mid air and dropped to the ground, his momentum halted entirely and stored in the blue aura. The world outside his tiny bubble turned a shade of blue, slowing to a crawl for a few seconds as he caught his breath.

He leaned forward and took care not to leave the radius of the bubble and maximized the time he had to collect himself.

He smiled through his mask at the camera as he mentally counted down the seconds. The barrier dropped.

"Hello, hello my friends of the first, fifth, sixth, and seventh precincts!" he grinned. "This is Impulse, the Fastest Man Alive! I'll be turning down Pine Street up and up Water Street shortly. Take heed this is probably your last chance to catch me before I disappear again on our merry chase. Hope to see y'all soon!"

Impulse turned away from the camera, then dashed down the side street.

He braked, cancelling his momentum, then turned at a sharp ninety degrees, repeating the process as he zigged and zagged down the side streets.

 _Mom would have a heart attack if she knew how I was getting enough money to get all these fresh, hot meals. How would she react if she knew that I quit my job at the construction site last month?_

Still, it was worth it to stick it to the pigs. It was honestly more disappointing than sad that could never do anything right.

Tony turned the corner to Water Street, and scoffed as he spotted multiple officers waiting for him behind a blockade.

 _You're too slow!_ He mentally chastised them.

He sped ahead, taking care to zig-zag through a crowd of yuppies. Hopefully their presence would dissuade any trigger happy cops from getting any ideas.

Tony knew he was fast - not stupidly, reality-breaking fast like his childhood hero, The Flash, but he could match most conventional vehicles. He also had a ludicrous amount of maneuverability to go along with that the speed.

His injury had ended his varsity track career, as well as any prospects he had in being able to afford higher education, but the second chance he had gotten through his power was arguably much better.

 _Whatever happens - Mary, Daniel, Lena, I swear on our dead father's name that none of you will ever go hungry again._

He zipped up Water Street, with police units falling further and further behind him.

 _Looks like I'll be clear soon._

He turned on James Madison Plaza, and zoomed through the park in a yellow streak. It wouldn't be long before he arrived at the Chinatown tenement apartment complex he used as his Downtown safe house.

An officer suddenly stepped out of the alley, intent on catching him with a well timed clothesline to the head.

Tony's heart skipped as he braked. He took a deep breath and ducked under the arm as it slowly arced out at a fraction of its speed. The arm made contact with the edge of his bubble, and the police let out a yelp of pain as his arm cracked on something solid, shattering the bubble.

 _Crap._

Tony rolled to the side as he felt his connection to his power source waiver for a few seconds. The officer reached for his gun, and Tony felt panic grip him before he felt the connection re-assert itself.

He watched as the officer's eyelids dropped in a blink, and in that moment, Tony had run behind him, taser raised.

Tony thrust the taser at the officer's neck, and he dropped to the ground, twitching and convulsing.

 _Way too close, I'm outta here._

He ran up into alleyway, and began to dash through the sprawling backalleys that made up Chinatown. Eventually, he made his way to an innocuous looking garbage can.

To his relief, the spare clothes he placed there had not been stolen by any homeless scavengers.

Taking care to check for witnesses, he hid his Professor Zoom costume in the garbage can. Activating his power, he made his way up the fire escape.

Tony heard the police sirens approach breathlessly, then sighed in relief as they faded off into the distance.

He opened a window and crawled into his tenement apartment, placing the bag of money on his couch before moving to turn on his lights.

Before he could react, something flew out of the darkness and wrapped around his legs, dropping him to the wooden floor with a painful thud.

 _What the fuck?_

Two pairs of _bolas_ of all things were wrapped around his arms and legs. His powers were negated and he was completely helpless.

 _Shit shit! shit shit shit shit!_

"Mister Win?" a feminine voice spoke out.

 _Is it weird my first thought was 'Wow, she got the name somewhat right?'_

"I have a proposition for you." she continued, walking out from the darkness.

Even in the darkness of dusk, Tony could tell the woman was young. She was wearing a white dress shirt, jeans, and combat boots. She had brown, wavy hair and oval shaped brown eyes, and was clearly Caucasian mixed with something else. Her thin, expressive lips were curled up in a smirk and she held a pistol in her hands. She smelled faintly of strawberries.

He squirmed against his bindings.

 _Think Tony, think! There's got to be a way out, maybe if I...  
_  
A click against his head made him freeze.

"I think you'll find it worth your time to listen."


	11. Interlude - Sogand

Disclaimer: I don't own Worm, Wildbow does and I hope to write something just as good one of these days :).

* * *

They had fallen upon us like fire and wind, striking from the shadow of night.

I was the daughter of a glass blower and trinket maker. Before the blessing, our business had been dying. Both my parents had thought they would have to move to Baghdad, and to give up the ancient art and the old traditions of their houses. My mother and her glass, my father and his odd machines, trying desperately to hide their worry as our savings dwindled.

My revelation came, they told me, like the flash of an angel in the night. A revelation I still cannot recall.

And so I saved us, creating a marvelous machine from nothing but the humblest of materials, harnessing the might of the sun itself to carry its purpose. The processor created glass crystals that shone and glimmered like the starry sky itself, and the townspeople would crowd around our shop, basking in awe at the wondrous crystalline structures born of my machine. Crystals which held the majesty of a million diamonds and glittered with a bright sheen in the night.

So I saved one of the last remnants of the village as it used to be, before the West had left their tanks and mines buried in the sands, before the petty wills of men who desired glory and power began to stab into the land and bleed it and its people dry.

Such was Allah's will.

I created wonder after wonder - a machine that could draw and purify water by the bucketful deep from the ground. I created another machine, a sphere that could fly and carry the weight of my my dearest brother, Adnan, as well as my own without fail. We were a close as could be, and had shared a womb fifteen years before.

Some days, before evening prayer, I would activate my newest creation - my wind-shielded _Malek_ and fly with Adnan out into the dunes outside the village. We would stare down in awe at the beauty of the night and the desert. With my scarf blowing gently in the winds that filtered through, we'd silently watch the sands roll under us, rippling like waves. I have not seen the oceans, but I've been told that the sands mirror them, and that it is fearful when it is angered. I have seen the desert angered, and I have known it to be fearful.

I have seen what the sand's embrace has done to the last of the American tanks, stranded in the dunes.

We had thought the horrors - the bombs, the bullets, and the planes had come to an end, and that the common people would need to know no death for the time being. My uncles and Father had fought with the Americans, with the Kurds against the dictator, and had come home to rest. Out of habit, Father kept a radio by his back side, scanning for trouble each morning.

And so the men came upon us, like thunder and lightning in the night. Bullets chorused through the evening for scarcely an hour, and then the world fell still.

The following morning, the invaders had gathered several dozen men in a circle the village square. They claimed tidings of a New Caliphate, and that all who would claim to worship Allah were to bow to the Great Caliph's name, such that he could carry the will of the Creator, blessed be his name.

They declared the men who had resisted as traitors under Allah's eyes, and I felt a great shock run through my body as I saw my brother and my father at the center of the group.

My father, Dawud Ali Nasser and my uncles and cousins had resisted with the militia, as had Adnan. They had taken up arms against the men who would dare blaspheme in Allah's name.

The invading men took positions around the circle, and began to shout loudly. Adnan swept the crowd and met my eyes. He mouthed some words to me, causing me to lunge out, crying in terror and helplessness.

Two of the village men held me back, my face streaked with tears, and I could do nothing as the men who had fought were gunned down before the horrified eyes of my fellow townsmen.

The men in the circle fell silent, and remained deathly still without a second word or breath.

The image of my brother's moving lips would stay with me until the day I knew Allah's embrace. I could only make out one word of the many he tried to speak with his last breaths.

 _'Survive.'_

The non-muslim women were led off by the conquerors, some to be wed and converted, some to be herded as cattle. I could not see my mother anywhere in sight.

A man approached me. They had found my wonders, my creations, and had realized my make was impossible, a gift from Allah himself. They had asked the village men and women, and all had pointed them my way.

I was blessed, they told me, and could create miracles to strike down the enemies Allah's armies. I would be given a place of honor, and wed to the Caliph's most trusted lieutenants, to be counted among the Caliph's Chosen.

I had no patience for the murderers of my family, and I slapped him across the cheek. They struck me, knocking me into the ground and they pressed my face roughly in the sand. My head was yanked up, and I gazed into the coal-lit eyes of a shawled man. Darkness was all I knew.

* * *

"Your gifts are a sign from Allah" Madafie al-Din declared, "That we are on the side of righteousness, that we shall triumph over the enemies of Islam. Small though our numbers may be for now, we have shown that the difference we can make is undeniable!"

 _We are few, and the tanks and planes of the West are many._

Muhammed al-Asiri stood silently in as the Protector addressed the Chosen. There were seven of them in the room, not including Madafie. Too few remaining of the dozen they had begun the offensive with.

"Guided by Allah's hand, we shall triumph over the infidels! You have served the Khalifah faithfully, and you will now be rewarded. Our glorious conquests have yielded two of the Gifted, both beautiful in form, both to be wed to two of his Chosen."

 _The Caliph is not a fool, and knows that he must plant the seeds of loyalty._

Muhammad gazed upon the faces of the two women Ibraham had captured. One was young, and could not be more than a mere girl. The other was around Muhammad's own age of twenty seven years.

Rehan leered at the younger one hungrily.

"They are defiant, they do not see the truth and glory of our Great Caliph" the General turned to bend over and address the women. "But your children will, they will be raised under the light of our Khalifah."

"Tozz Feek" the younger girl growled, spitting in Madafie's eye.

Madafie reared back in rage, wiping away the spittle. He raised his hands, and the room shook as gravity abandoned the girl, causing her to lash sharply upwards to the roof. She fell back down just as quickly, crashing with into the floor with a crack.

She coughed, spitting out a tooth.

Muhammad clenched his hands.

 _This is not Allah's will._

The older girl began to mewl for her parents, her father, her brothers, to Allah for any reprieve for the horrors and life that were about to fall upon her. The younger one glared hatefully through her pained, swelling eyes, resigned to her fate.

"You will speak only when spoken to, do you understand? You will address me as Alqayid, or you will not address me at all."

He threw her upon the roof again and Ali winced. Madafie let her down to slowly hover in front of his view.

"Nod if you understand."

The girl nodded in defeat, a part of her had broken just now, both physically and mentally

"Good."

He turned to look upon the Chosen.

"Who wishes to lay claim upon this one?"

Muhammad had joined the resistance against the Americans as a young, wide-eyed teenager fighting for a dream. A dream where the West would finally be ousted and Islam could return to a new golden age, where women and children would not bleed for western hegemony.

 _Screaming, gunfire, explosions. Fearful golden eyes of pleading for help as her long, raven black hair fell messily across the ground. A young Muhammad stared helplessly, restrained by the American soldiers as a Marine tore relentlessly at his dearest cousin's clothes._

What it had become had shaken his beliefs to the core, but he could do nothing but remain outwardly stoic and indifferent. He had been blessed while fighting the Syrians in Aleppo, and was now counted among the greatest of the Caliph's elite troops, second only to Madafie al-Din himself.

Rehan began to move forward.

"I will take her" Muhammad spoke out, before Rehan could lay claim on the girl.

A shimmer of sanity in an army of rapists, zealots, and madmen. Only somewhat better than the western infidels they fought.

 _Forgive me, for God is Great._

* * *

"Please" she whispered through pained, ragged breaths. "Please, don't, I beg of you, please."

They had been wed quickly by an Immam, and led to a bedchamber to consummate their marriage. Muhammad had been told that she was an Artisan, much like Bilal, and should not be permitted near anything she could conceive of as building material.

"I do not wish to harm you" Muhammad spoke gently, dabbing at her face with a wet cloth.

She stared up at him pleadingly but...hopeful? It was clear she doubted his words, but her eyes betrayed a glimmer of hope.

"Then please... don't."

"What is your name, girl?"

The girl choked back tears, and replied.

"I am Sogand ibnat Dawud ibn Ali Nasser."

"And I am Muhammed, son of Asif of Asiri. You have nothing to fear from me" he spoke with a pitying tone.

He leaned over a bucket, soaking the rag he had been using to clean her cuts and bruises.

"W...why are all of you doing this? Your people claim to fight in Allah's name and will but, this is not the way of the book."

Muhammad often wondered about that himself.

"This is the way things are now, young wife of mine. The promises of power, glory, and conquest consume all men in time."

Muhammad bent over and whispered in her ear "I will not touch you unless you wish it, but I will need you to scream and cry for me, right now. They will expect it."

He grabbed the bedding, and ripped into it loudly and roughly.

She looked up at him in comprehension and nodded.

She removed her outward clothes, praying to Allah for forgiveness as she whimpered and shouted in fear.

* * *

"Brothers of the Great Khalifah!" Madafie declared as he stood on what served as a podium.

"Our accomplishments have been relentless and swift, and those of you standing with his today know this to be true. Under the righteous will of Allah, we have captured, subjugated, and brought punishment to the heretics of Sinjar for their blasphemy."

Bilal's radar had predicted the American bombers before they had come within fifty kilometers of their encampment, and Madafie had hastily thrown together this...meeting of sorts as well as a plan. This would be the seventh pass in as much as three days, and the bombs were doing serious damage to their numbers, morale, and more importantly, supplies.

He had been slipping Sogand metal scraps for the past two weeks, ranging from common iron to copper and aluminum salvaged from wreckages. She had painfully built something that she said would call her "Malek" to her, and she was finally ready.

"The survivors have hidden themselves on their unholy mountain, and now they weep and hide like the cowards they are, waiting for the American pigs and their planes to rescue them from their plight. We have suffered many an injury to the western Heathens. The same ones who would impose their will on our lands, people, and faith. Now they seek to scatter us so that we may be cut down by the Syrians and Turkish forces who now lie in wait on our borders. To dissuade us from finishing our noble task of cleansing the Yazidi filth."

With a flourish, Madafie turned to beckon towards the rapidly approaching group of planes. Dozens in number, mere dots in the sky from where he stood.

"Those of you who have only joined us after our recent victories, I call upon you to witness! Witness, as even the foreign infidels tremble before the hammer of Allah's wrath!"

 _"Allahu Akbar!"_ Madafie shouted at the top of his impressive lungs.

 _" **ALLAHU AKBAR!"**_ the crowd chorused.

Muhammad nodded grimly, and mentally prepared himself for the task.

The crowd fell silent as Madafie raised his hand forward, and Muhammad launched himself into the air to meet the incoming planes, assisted by Madafie's gift. Planes that would otherwise bring death and disastrously crushed morale onto the soldiers of the caliphate.

A red flash burst forth from Muhammad's body and the planes began to fall by the dozens.

* * *

Colonel Myles Peterson shivered awake from the cold of the desert air and coughed, spitting sand out of his mouth. The sun was on the edge of the horizon, glimpsing down on him like a child peering over the edge of a table. The world was still, striking him with nothing but the withering howl of the wind.

He looked around, wiping the dust and ash out of his eyes and removed his parachute pack. His Wing had rendezvoused to escort the bombing operation on Mount Sinjar when they spotted a tiny figure floating in the air at a distance. They were suddenly enveloped by a bright red light, and well, things went FUBAR pretty quickly.

He had lost control of his fighter, and only quick thinking and a moment of cowardice had saved his ass. Myles had desperately given the order to eject over the radio, and promptly pulled the trigger. Now he was stranded in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with only sand, burning wreckage, and jihadists for miles.

Myles shook his head at the absurdity of what he had just seen, mentally tallying up the damage in the lives of the boys under him and taxpayer dollars. He sighed as he checked his radio, which seemed to be functional. He prepared to call in HQ and tell them just how much of a clusterfuck the operation had be-.

*BOOM*

A metal ball suddenly shot over him at supersonic speeds. The pressure rattled his eardrums and knocked him off his feet.

 _Holy shit, what in the nine hells was that?_

* * *

I stared down mournfully as my Malek sped over the morning sea, at speeds no boat or plane could ever hope to manage. I had flown silently without a word for nearly two hours.

I wept.

I wept at last.

I wept for my mother, whom I would never see again.

I wept for my father and brother, executed under the glaring noon.

I wept for the families of the cross, massacred and enslaved in droves.

I had tried to stay strong, but I had broken like glass under the wilting gaze of the demon who claimed to be the will of Allah.

I stared down at the morning sea for the first time, rippling like broken glass against the faint light of dawn and I clenched my teeth in fury.

What these men had done was not Allah's way.

Glass is clean, and whole, and beautiful.

Broken glass is sharp, and deadly.


	12. Genesis 1-9

Disclaimer: Worm is the property of Wildbow, I do not claim to own any of his characters or intellectual property. The original characters in this work are my own, however.

* * *

 _"A man will not reach eloquence if he is afraid of bombast."_ — ANTARES! Dark Lord of Entropy!

* * *

 **Alex**

I surged forward at my opponent, easily slipping his attempt at a counter-punch. Grabbing his neck into a clinch with my left arm, I looped my other arm around his elbow and stepped around, twisting and sinking my weight downwards.

My target slammed into the mat with a thud that reverberated through the room.

"Keep your feet squared and never cross your legs when you move" I chastised. "Moves like the one I just used only work when an opponent leaves a huge hole in his stance."

He groaned and tried to stand up, turning prone and leaning on one hand for support. I saw the opening immediately and snapped a front kick that ended with my foot half an inch shy of his jaw.

"Practice one of the three basic recovery moves I'd shown you when you get up. At the very least, you need to keep your face covered when recovering from a fall."

I pushed him back down to the position he was in with my foot and pulled my leg back.

This time he stood up with the jiu jitsu style grappling recovery I'd shown him. I moved in for the low kick and he slid backwards with a hip thrust on the ground. He kicked his back leg at my shin to stop my momentum just as I'd taught him, and he utilized the momentum it to push himself off to the side at an angle, creating a decent amount of space. He rose with a rising forearm strike at my throat, _almost_ exactly as I'd shown him.

I sidestepped outside and swept his tenuously balanced front leg out with a roundhouse, dropping him back on the ground into an unbalanced split. I spun with the momentum, throwing a spinning elbow strike that stopped just short of his nose.

He tensed up and blinked, huffing ever so slightly. I could see him imagining just how much that would have stung if it had connected.

I stood back to give him some room, and he pulled his legs together before falling forward on his hands, breathing heavily.

 _"I love the sight of humans prostrating themselves before their superiors."_

"Oh *wheeze* shut it Purple" he managed to gasp out between breaths. "That thing's never going to let me live that down is it? Christ Alex, where did you learn all this ninja shit?"

I took a moment to look over Jonathan Murphy, who had cleaned himself up over the last three days. His assorted cuts and bruises had disappeared rather quickly, and he had taken to learning how to fight from me pretty readily.

"I had a rough childhood" I responded. "Also, really? This is coming from a guy who's spent years learning how to throw knives, pick locks, pull rabbits out of his sleeves, and juggle. A guy who can literally turn invisible and create illusory clones of himself no less."

He shrugged, "Hey, I'm not complaining. I was just curious about all the Kung Fu stuff you've been showing me the past three days."

I shook my head with a grimace at the Kung Fu comment. My parents were from China, but the techniques I'd focused on were at least three styles removed from Kung Fu when it came to martial arts lineage.

"It's not Kung Fu, Jon. I've been showing you the fundamentals of Sambo, Systema, and Boxing. I also threw in a few basic Karate movement and breathing techniques for good measure. Long time practitioners tend to take their styles and school names pretty seriously."

"Ehhh whatever, as long as you whip me into shape so that I can kick ass and take names when things go up shit's creek, I don't care if you call it Kung Fu, Samba, or Alex Seto's School of Whoopass. I just wish my body would pick it all up faster and learn to dish out the hurt instead of taking it though."

I smiled at him and offered a hand up.

"Learning to kick ass takes years, and I mean _years_ Jon _"_ I said reassuringly. "I started off getting my butt tossed around the mats at the beginning _. L_ earning to move, guard, recover, and survive will pay off in both the short and long run."

He grumbled, taking my hand and pulling himself back up. He hopped onto the balls of his feet and squared up into a basic fighting stance.

"I get it, I get it, start with the basics and work your way up. Any word on the IDs by the way?"

I adjusted his stance, turning him more to the side and tightening his elbows to guard his ribs better before stepping back into standard tournament distance.

"Val will get them to you tomorrow. I can't believe you decided to call yourself 'Cloak' of all things."

Jon stepped in with a sloppy front kick to my nuts, which I checked with my knee and returned with a light roundhouse to his thigh as he pulled his leg back. He winced, and responded.

"Hey the name does fit really nicely, considering my power and all. It's only a minor copyright infringement in the grand scheme of things. It helps that I got under your pet AI's circuits with that one."

 _"Excuse me!"_

He threw an aggressive rushing jab-cross flurry and I hopped side to side narrowly dodging and redirecting his momentum.

It was a nice approach to one-on-one sparring - I'd let him practice the basic footwork and strikes we'd worked on with a live target, then I'd fight back and punish whatever glaring openings he was showing me before telling him exactly what went wrong. I threw a light push kick to his stomach, pushing him back and knocking the wind out of him.

"Breathe out when you move in for an attack Jon, or that happens."

Jon recovered from the hit, and led in with some wild body hooks. I took the hit off the side and gave him an opening follow in with a right overhand straight. Just like the last four times, he overextended his stance in a straight, and the pull-back would take a third of a second longer than was safe.

This time I slipped outside his guard and followed in with a roundhouse kick to the solar plexus. Then I delivered a hammer fist counter to the floating ribs while grabbing onto his neck with my other arm.

Jon backpedaled in an attempt to his torso out of my range. I stepped in to shove him hard by the shoulders, and e reflexively rocked back and forth to regain his balance. I dropped down onto the ground and placed my foot on his hip, pivoting him over my head, and he slammed onto the ground a couple of feet away.

I rolled with the momentum to stand up over him.

"Owwww" he croaked, lying flat on the ground taking deep breath. "Okay, I...I think I'm done here."

-o-

"So this Taylor girl...she's from Earth Bet? As in, alternate superhero universe Earth Bet?"

Jon dropped the question while trying on the full-body black suit that just arrived.

I had finally shown Jon the recording of our conversation over at the dinner table last night, before I had left for my apartment.

"So far as I can tell" I responded as I stood back to look at the finished product.

The body suit was a custom order from Johnson and Westmark's, a cutting edge materials science lab we'd sold software to in the past. It was created mostly from an anti-ballistic Kevlar-based material, with microfiber casing on the inside and outside to regulate body temperature. There was a thin layer of non-Newtonian Shear-Thickening Fluid within the Kevlar that would solidify when struck by a large force.

The effectiveness of using a liquid that hardened against high impacts was questionable when melee weapons came into the equation, but I planned on creating another version that was reinforced with ceramic plates, or in my case, steel plates. What we had would have to do for now though.

"That's some crazy shit you know? I mean, I knew there were a couple thousand refugees from Earth Bet running around out there, but I never thought I would meet one who played intern with S.H.I.E.L.D."

I bit my lip with a frown, "I don't think that's exactly accurate, Jon."

"What do you mean?" he asked, fumbling to get the facemask over his head.

"I reviewed everything she said during lunch over the past couple of days" I explained. "Taylor said that the Protectorate and PRT were two agencies that were heavily intertwined, but she also made it pretty clear that she was part of the _Protectorate_. If you paid attention to the video, she emphasized that the Protectorate was an independent entity dedicated towards organizing superheroes on Earth Bet, while the PRT was just a bureaucratic government agency that served as an intermediary between the 'capes' and the public."

"Wait, so you're telling me the girl with the attitude and prosthetic... is actually some sort of veteran retired badass super-heroine?" he said in an incredulous tone.

I thought back to Saturday, the day I'd met Taylor. I had been ready to swoop in to help her against that vagrant, but she had completely dismantled him with a few well placed moves. The same thing happened to a lesser extent during the bookstore incident on Sunday, where she managed to line up five impossibly clustered head-shots from a haphazard firing stance.

"From what I've seen, yeah. You've seen the news clippings, right? Taylor and I were there at the bookstore. She shot Death Ray five times in the head, all while he was jerking around the air."

It was still uncomfortable for me to think about the Bookstore Massacre, and I idly nursed the faded mark on my right arm. The thick shield I pulled and layered from the garbage can lid I was using had saved my life, but Death Ray's beam had left a nasty burn on my arm which took two days to heal over.

Getting my powers had cleared my body of all of its scars and blemishes, except for a faint line that traced around my left knee. This was first scar I had received since Scion.

I was somewhat glad that the beam had left a crescent shape mark where the beam had skid off my forcefield. I needed something to remind myself of how badly I had frozen up and failed the people I was supposed to protect in the bookstore, and to never let it happen again.

"Damn, that must have been pretty rough, I'm sorry."

"Indeed, it was fucking awful" I said in a level tone.

 _It's also unfortunate that you're still looking at this superhero stuff through rose colored lenses._

Then again, Jon had been stuck in a torture pod for the better part of several months. Everything, including the little things we took for granted had to look amazing after that.

"So, do you have any idea what her whole gimmick is? She has the whole Black Widow vibe going about her and everything."

I shook my head, "I don't know, and honestly unless we have a worldwide threat like Scion breathing down on our necks again, I really don't care about that. I already feel like a piece of shit for roping her into helping us as is, even if it's only with information. You can ask her yourself when she shows up after orientation week though."

Although I do admit that I was more than little curious about Taylor's past.

From what little information I managed to scrape up about the Golden Morning, it was an apocalyptic event on a _multiversal_ level. The battle had started from New York and flown south at supersonic speeds, razing half the eastern seaboard down through the Caribbean and Peru before the participants vanished over the ocean. From there, the combatants reappeared on Earth Samek dozens of times over that day, staying a few minutes at a time

Comparison photos had pointed out that the number of heroes with each reappearance had actually increased, despite the fact that they were dying by the dozens each time they reappeared. Not only that, there were minions ranging from birds and insects to robot attack drones and mutant monsters that multiplied in number each time.

Whatever powers and technology they'd used to follow Scion, I was pretty sure they picked up several realities' worth of superheroes and supervillains along the way to join the fight. Whether she was a street-level Badass Normal like the fictional Black Widow or if she had some real superpowers, it was easy to see how years of active duty combat followed by witnessing a multiversal genocide could really tear into a girl's mind.

"Woo!" John exclaimed as he threw an urban gray cloak over the armored mesh underneath and green aviator goggles that he _insisted_ on having. He strapped on the utility belt he requested, before turning towards his reflection in one of the nearby glass doors.

"Man, I can't seem to decide whether this look leans more towards steampunk or dystopian sci-fi."

I was about to comment, when my phone started ringing in my pocket.

"Gimme a sec Jon" I said while picking up my phone. It was Madeline McCoy, who was definitely not calling me on my burner phone.

I picked up, and spoke into the phone, "Hello?"

"Hey Alex, we need to talk. It's urgent" she said perkily over the phone.

"I'm free tonight, what's up Maddie?"

"Great, how about Union Square East at 6:30 at our old spot? The weather is nice in the park today."

A chill ran down my spine.

 _The weather is nice in the park today_ was one of about a dozen pass phrases we'd come up with. This one meant that something downright bizarre was going on that defied conventional explanation. The situation we'd agreed to use it in was when we stumbled upon something that seemed to come straight out of the X-files.

"Got it, meet you there in an hour" I replied.

"Alright, glad to hear it,I'll see you soon!"

She hung up.

"Hey uh, Alex?" Jon voiced with concern, "Your facial expressions are toeing the line somewhere between 'Holy shit' and 'Bloody Murder' right now."

The shutter on one of the room's surveillance cameras flicked open.

 _"Yeah, I agree with the meat bag. On a scale of 1 to Scion how bad is it?"_

I pinched the bridge of my nose in trepidation.

-o-

It was a lazy summer afternoon at Union Square, the bustling heart of Manhattan's downtown. Happy couples flirted while walking their dogs down the walkways, children played on the playgrounds, and middle-aged men sat on boxes challenging each other to chess games for money.

Down at the plaza, Tom Thanatos and Antares were up to their usual hijinks, and a small crowd of almost 100 viewers gathered around their curtained mobile stage.

I sat down at the table overlooking the plaza waiting for the good detective to arrive. I was wearing a green polo shirt, gray sneakers, and brown chino shorts, one of the most inconspicuous sets of clothing a guy could wear.

Checking my phone, I saw that it was a good ten minutes or so before Maddie was due.

I yawned and leaned back into a lazy stretch, basking in the warm summer breeze. It was the least I could do for myself while waiting for whatever whammy she was about to drop on me.

My eyes swept over the square and landed on the stage as the curtains were raised and several smoke bombs went off to announce the start of the show. I squinted at the smoke as it dramatically cleared, revealing two figures standing on it.

A flamboyantly dressed man I identified as Antares posed on one end towards the audience, standing at six feet two inches tall in silver-purple chrome platform cowboy boots. I had to admit that Antares probably had one of the most over the top costumes that I'd ever seen in reality and fiction.

His impressive hair volume was slicked up into a bleached pompadour, and his face was twisted into a maniacal, confident sneer. He wore a black leather tunic and biker pants with bright pink and purple ceramic armor interspersed in certain areas. He had highly noticeable large, purple, spiky shoulder pauldrons, as well as a forearm protector and a pair of knee guard. A large yellow four-point star adorned the center of his tunic. His eyes were somewhat obscured by magenta pink triangle sunglasses.

His teal half-cape billowed in the wind from his right shoulder, and his metal cowboy boots clanged as he turned to face his 'archnemesis', Tom Thanatos, formerly known as Atropos.

Crouching on one knee on the other side was a bald, dark olive-skinned shirtless figure with numerous intricate tattoos covering his body. He stood at around five feet nine inches tall, and he had a layer of rags tied around his waist over a pair of skinny jeans and a bandanna was tied around his face. His body was in pretty good shape, focusing more on aesthetics than general strength - a sort of "Hollywood" build with a modest amount of muscle mass and very low body fat. He carried two realistic looking machetes strapped in an X shape over his back and he gave off the impression of a rugged, action movie protagonist.

I'd heard a great deal about their show, but I didn't really know much about them other than the mentions I'd found on the internet. Antares was able to greatly increase the local entropy of any region of space in his line of sight. Thanatos could bring the tattoos that covered his body to life and control them like puppets.

The two of them combined their powers to choreograph campy, over the top theatrics reminiscent of professional wrestling, and it looked like I was about to witness it firsthand.

"Citizens of Manhattan!" Antares's voice boomed over the square with a gust of wind.

His fingers curled together in a gleeful, sinister double fist-pump, and he shouted. "I am ANTARES! Dark lord of entropy! Harbinger of doom, conquest and destruction! Those of you who do not know me, will know well in time to to QUAKE and TREMBLE in my presence!"

He snapped his fingers with both hands, and a pressure wave washed over the park with a thunderous *CRA-THOOM* while the crowd cheered and clapped.

"It is good to see that my esteemed rival, Tom Thanatos, HERO OF NEW YORK has decided to grace us with his presence today! He has come, once again, seeking to foil my nefarious plots! But little does he know, he has come only to face his DOOM tonight! MWAHAHAHA!"

Huh, it looks like he was using power to amplify his voice. That was... a pretty novelty idea.

"This ends here, Antares. This is the night I bring you to JUSTICE!" Thanatos spoke, drawing his machetes and standing into a fighting position.

"Well met, my esteemed rival Thanatos! ALDEBARAN! FOMALHAUT! REGULUS! It's SSSSSHHHHOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW time!"

He cracked his fingers, and another *CRA-THOOM* rang throughout the square. On cue, three men dressed as identically dressed men appeared from back stage. Their uniform designs were reminiscent of purple samurai bamboo armor, and each of them were covered in stars and brandishing golden katanas. They arranged themselves into a triangle formation in front of Antares. and cheesy 80s action movie music began to play in the background.

"The heavens cry for righteousness!" Thanatos exclaimed, before doing a small twirling dance with his machetes. The ghostly shade of a red phoenix few from his body with a shriek to float above him.

"The earth demands retribution!" he shouted continuing his dance. A white tiger burst forth with another *CRA-THOOM* that was no doubt generated by Antares and flew to his left.

"The innocents cry out for me to amend the wrongs that you have committed!" and a blue dragon sprang out from his right with a roar.

"Repent for your craven ways, evildoers, for I am Tom Thanatos! HERO OF NEW YORK! Prepare to meet your maker!"

"ATTACK, my nefarious minions! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

With a battle cry and another *CRA-THOOM*, the purple ninjas charged forward while Antares cackled from the back. Thanatos immediately began to move and flipped onto his hands, jumping into clearly practice and choreographed capoeira patterns to fight the minions hand to hand.

Occasionally, Antares would throw projectiles that burst into amazing technicolor explosions with CRA-THOOMS, which were immediately intercepted by by Thanatos's living tattoos which disintegrated. He would continuously call upon them as they impacted with the effects grenades, creating a beautifully choreographed dance of lights, acrobatics, and explosions

I cringed a little at the cheesy and over-the-top dialogue and theatrics, but I had to admit that Thanatos had some really impressive capoeira moves, and their special effects were completely on point. Just as I was going to look down to check on my phone, a folder filled with papers landed in my lap.

I looked up to see a woman with light chocolate brown skin and green eyes staring down at me with a stony, no-nonsense expression.

"Hey Maddie, what's up?"

"Look through that folder, right now" she gestured frantically. "Tell me if you don't find something a little bit disturbing."

Sheesh, not even a hello? Whatever this was, it had her really, really worked up.

I opened up the folder, and raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was a dossier on a man named David Rosen, who by now the entire country knew as Death Ray. I skimmed down the information on the first page - details on Rosen's background.

David Rosen was a surgeon at Mount Sinai Beth Israel Hospital, and he had led a charmed life up until the massacre. Born and raised to an upper middle class family in Forest Hills, he went on to graduate from Bronx High School of Science, and complete a Bachelor's degree at Yale University in Biology. From there, he was funneled straight through Columbia medical school, and had completed his residency two years ago. He had no history of mental illness, two younger brothers, and loving, well-adjusted parents who expressed their shock over their son's actions.

"Okay so our resident psychopath had a charmed upbringing, it isn't unheard of for people who are seemingly well adjusted on the surface to snap and go on a rampage you know?"

"Keep reading" Maddie stated, sitting down next to me to look over the folder.

I flipped to the next page. It was a picture of Rosen standing over a patient on an operating table. A thin green beam of light shot out of his fingers, cutting along the patient's chests

"Rosen had been using his power a high precision surgery tool, controlling the intensity of his strength output."

I shuddered, withholding comment on the horrors we both knew I had seen that beam create.

I continued flipping, stopping to look at a train ticket stub that had been collected from his apartment in the East Village. It was dated to Monday.

He was planning on traveling the day after the bookstore massacre.

The plot thickens.

Turning the page, my eyes landed on the autopsy report for David Rosen, and I felt a lump in my throat.

"What the hell is this?" I demanded, trying hard to keep my voice down.

It was a picture of the back of David Rosen's bleeding skull. There was a small cluster of gross-looking thin silver webbing leaking out of the exit wounds from Taylor's gunshots.

"The medical examiner found a silver-based crystalline structure attached to Rosen's limbic system, which rapidly degraded until it vanished in a couple of hours."

"So wait, are you suggesting that Rosen had some sort of freaky brain surgery done to him?"

"Just wait till you look through what's in the flash drive I included in the back, I have reason to believe-" she stopped, as if considering the ridiculousness of what she was about to say "-mind control was involved, and that we have a serial killer on the loose."

Okay, the entire month of August was proving to be a total clusterfuck, at least things couldn't get worse, could they?

-o-

 **?**

How long had it been? Hours? Days? Weeks? He did not know.

He did not know how long he had climbed, or how hesurvived when his companions had perished under the weight of the building's mass, but he was strong, he would survive, he had the stubborn will to persist. His physiology had been altered, he could feel it clearly with every ripple of his powerful muscles.

Hours passed, days passed, and a lone, clawed hand burst through, the dim-lit evening streets of the wreckage formerly known as the Gunther Schumann Research Institute.

A single thought consumed his mind entirely.

 _So... hungry...  
_

* * *

A/N: One more Taylor POV chapter to finish the arc! As usual, reviews are appreciated. Hold off on the flames though =)


	13. End of Arc 1: Genesis 1-10

Disclaimer: I don't own Worm, Worm belongs to Wildbow. I'm planning on writing an original work along the same lines in the near future though ;).

* * *

A/N: Man this chapter was a real pain in the ass to write. I spent a lot of time on this chapter, and I've gotta say I find slice of life pretty hard to write but hopefully it'll get easier as I improve. I've done so much research on NYU and the school's traditions in the last two weeks it kind of hurts to think about.

Now to get the ball rolling on the cape-thriller plot I've been outlining for weeks. Expect the pacing to pick up here quite a bit.

* * *

[Monday, 8-25-14, 6:28 A.M]

*RIIING*  
*RIIING*

I gasped, waking up from what felt like an endless series of surreal nightmares.

My entire body was tingling and drenched in sweat, and my skin was flushed hot to the touch. My stump of a right arm ached with a dull pain, although hadn't really bothered me at all in the last couple of months. The unpleasant sensations wracking my body were topped off by a deep throbbing in my spine and hips.

A wave of fatigue and pain washed over me, and I wondered if I might have gotten sick yesterday. I'd felt some aches waking up yesterday, but they weren't nearly this bad.

I reached over my alarm clock and turned it around - 6:28 A.M. I had a little over an hour to get ready for the convocation event.

I groaned, struggling to push myself out of bed with my arm, and I felt a numbing vibration through my hand. I was struck by a surge of vertigo, I collapsed back onto my bed with a small whimper.

 _Come on Taylor, you spent the better part of yesterday filling out the leftover paperwork. It's orientation day, and you really don't want to sleep in and miss this._

There was no way I was going to stay in and miss the opening convocation ceremony after all the effort I'd spent getting into this damn college.

With a grunt of effort, I rolled over out of the bed and put on my slippers, staggering slowly to the bathroom. I flinched as I felt a jolt of pain in my lower back while shuffling over the freshly polished wooden floor. Yup, I was definitely going to skip out on the morning run today.

I turned on the shower, letting the apartment's aged heating system work as I brushed my teeth.

Three minutes later, I was blissfully standing under the hot stream of water as steam filled the room. The odd tingling sensation rapidly diminished as the soothing water cleaned the soap off my body, as did the aches and pains I felt all over my body.

I got out of the showers, shivering as a draft swept over me from the bathroom door.

Fuck, everything felt cold as shit all of a sudden.

The aches and tingles were still there, but it was much more bearable now. I finished drying myself off, and went back to my bedroom to get dressed. I threw on a simple purple crew neck t-shirt and a pair of jeans, put on my running shoes, and made my way out the door.

-o-

Walking down the street, I lazily bit into a breakfast bagel I'd bought from a deli around the corner from my apartment. One thing to do in New York checked off the list I guess. Finishing off my sandwich, I tossed the wrapper into a nearby garbage can, before taking the final step up the coach bus. Say what you will about New York, but this city really did have some of the best food in the world.

After a brief opening introduction in our respective faculty buildings, the students had been shifted outside towards a small fleet of coach buses for the university-wide convocation speech at Radio City Music Hall.

The seats on the bus I'd been assigned to were slowly being filed by my fellow students, and I sat down by a window near the back of the bus.

"Hey there!" A girl exclaimed as she walked up to my seat, "Hope this seat isn't taken. Mind if I sit with you on the ride over?"

"Go right on ahead" I replied absently, pulling my gaze from the sidewalks.

I turned towards the girl and looked her over for a moment. She had long, brown, wavy hair that reminded me of my own. She was tall and thin, standing at around five feet eight inches, just a bit shorter than me. She wore a white shirt that had the words "NYU Class of 2018" printed on it. Her green shorts were extremely flattering for her long, slender leg, and I couldn't help but feel a momentary flash of envy.

Her thin, expressive lips were curled up in a faint smile, and she had a heart-shaped, feminine face. Her brown, almond-shaped eyes were open wide with a look of curiosity and wonder as her gaze swept over my arm.

She blinked out of her stupor, and made eye contact with me.

"Hey there, my name's Holly, Holly Barrette" she said with a cheer as she sat down next to me.

"I'm Taylor, nice to meet you too Holly" I said, smiling back nervously.

"Excited about NYU?" she said with a small bounce.

"Definitely. New sights, new faces and all that, a fresh start, you know?" I responded, staring down wistfully.

With a faint clamor, the bus started up and began to drive uptown.

"Oh, are you from out of town, Taylor?"

I'm from Brockton B-

"I'm from New Haven, but I've spent the last couple of years traveling around. What about you, Holly?"

"Newton, Massachusetts. It's one of those white picket fence suburban towns near Boston. It's a real drag compared to the city here though."

"I can kind of see that, but I've always been a city girl myself" I added. "Although the longest time I've spent in a major first tier city was a year in Chicago. Chicago's gorgeous and all, but New York feels like a whole different world."

 _It helps that the Teeth aren't running around causing trouble here._

"So, are you dorming by any chance,Taylor?"

"Nope, I live in an apartment on the Lower East Side. It isn't exactly glamorous, but I can't really afford to dorm right now."

"Oh that's a bummer, I'm dorming in the Ivory Towers, if you ever want to come hang out" she offered. "Hey how about tonight? I make a mean souffle."

People out of their way to be nice to me just for the sake of it? Well, that was something sadly new in my life.

"Heh, maybe I'll take you up on that offer..." I muttered timidly.

We continued to make small talk as the bus made its way up Broadway. It was made pretty clear that I sucked at it but Holly didn't seem to mind. She blabbered on for a good ten minutes about how amazing everything seemed in the city, and how everything was a dump where she grew up. She'd just moved in the night before, and seemed to be well into the honeymoon period. I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiastic attitude.

"Woah." Holly suddenly whispered as the bus pulled in view of Times Square.

I whistled in agreement, staring up at the painfully bright billboards that lined this world's version of Times Square. Like on Earth Bet, the New York City of this world had had a rough patch with drugs and gang violence in the 70s and 80s. Legend's Protectorate did eventually bring the city to order, but the presence of multiple supervillain teams along with Behemoth's appearance had left a lasting injury that the city never fully recovered from.

The Manhattan of my home world had never become the commercial and cultural mecca Earth Samek's Manhattan had become.

"I-gah" I started, before a stabbing pain caused my vision to explode into starbursts.

"Taylor? Are you alright?!"

My bus companion touched my arm with concern.

I rubbed my eyes furiously, and the pain dissipated.

"Yeah, I just have a bit of a headache, that's all."

I looked up at the skyscrapers around me as the bus crawled to a stop. The Rockefeller Center of this world was virtually identical to the one I'd once visited on Earth Bet, aside from the one neat diagonal line that cut neatly through the skyline. One of Scion's stray beams had sliced through some of the skyscrapers in this area, and most of the damage hadn't been repaired yet. It was a living, somber testament to the half a million New York residents who had perished by Scion's hand.

Shaking away the dreary thoughts, I climbed out of my seat as our Orientation Leader beckoned us to get off the bus, and I made my way down the steps right behind Holly.

"Let's go!"

I yelped in surprise as Holly suddenly grabbed my hand at the bottom of the steps and rushed us into the music hall. My head still spun a little from the sudden headache, and I nearly puked as we rushed ahead. Forcing the bile down, I tried my best to keep up with the energetic girl pulling me along through the entrance hall.

Radio City Music Hall was...much more glamorous on the inside than it was from the outside. We ran ahead of the groups, and I could see thousands of students filing in behind us through the entrances, scrambling to take their seats at the direction of the Orientation Leaders.

I scanned the crowd and actually caught a glimpse of Alex standing out in the distance. He had an "Orientation Leader" t-shirt tightly stretched tightly across his impressive frame, and he was herding a rowdy crowd of incoming students into their seats on the right side of the hall.

Walking down the aisle with Holly, I took a seat near the edge and waited for the rest of the rather large incoming class to settle down.

I found a seat in the mid-corner, and slumped down comfortably into my chair. I was still a little bit on edge after the run-in with the bum on Friday and the bookstore incident on Saturday, but it was nice to have a semblance of normalcy for a change.

A plump woman in a business suit walked on-stage, and stepped up to a podium. She blew into the microphone, causing the room to fall silent.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, my name is Tracy West, and I am proud to introduce myself as the acting president of New York University. In the days, weeks, and month to come, we'll have thousands of hours to get to know each other, and to discuss issues of concern and importance to you."

She paused for a moment as the room erupted into a welcoming cheer. Holly clapped her hands and stood up, like everyone else, but something about the woman rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was the haughty way she stood despite the cheerful face she put on, like an empress towering over her empire.

"You're probably wondering why I gathered you all here today. Well, first and foremost, congratulations! You are all officially Violets!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I felt my headache return again, this time with a dull, buzzing and tingling sensation resonated through my body, and the dull throbbing at my right temple turned into a searing headache.

Next to me, Holly yawned and her eyes began to droop.

"I would like to start the convocation speech with a few pieces of advice. Call your mother, often! She'll worry about you every day for a while and it'll make her happy if you call her."

I felt another throb of pain, and the sounds coming out of her mouth began to distort. I ebbed in and out of consciousness.

 _"Alw... laund- lot- don't-"_

What started as a faint buzzing rapidly escalated into something _more_. The sensation was awful - far worse than it had been while I was on the bus or when I woke up. I bit back the urge to scream as the buzzing intensified further.

Then, my field of vision _fragmented,_ shattering like glass.

Everything went black.

-o-

My entire body was covered in dust and blood, and I wheezed and gasped for air as I pulled myself out from a mass of rubble.

The sky was stained red overhead, with the sun's light reflecting off of a hundred ongoing fires. My costume had been torn to shreds, and was hanging off my body in several places.

I leaned up against a wall, convulsing on the ground as warm, sticky liquid flowed and pooled around me from my wounds. The building around me was burning, and a thin, wispy cloud of smoke filled the room. Red liquid flowed freely down my torso, trickling down and dripping on the ground from my right arm, which ached with a sharp pain. I nearly choked from the blood that filled my throat, and I coughed, spitting out the sharp coppery fluid.

What the hell happened to me? Everything was so hazy and I couldn't remember.

"Well well well, If it isn't my favorite little ball of vicious terror" I heard a voice speak mockingly through the miasma.

 _No._

It couldn't be _him._

A figure leaned against the wall on the side. He wore a simple white, blood-splattered open button-down shirt and brown slacks. He was casually twirling around a hooked knife with one hand.

"What?" he said with a lopsided grin, "Surprised to see me? You didn't think something as silly as what happened back there could keep little ol' me down, did you?"

"Fuck you" I hissed. "Stay in hell where you belong."

In an instant, I had a swarm forming around us, flooding into the building.

"Oh come on Skitter! Or is it Weaver now? That habit of yours has always been a little bit endearing, you know. Always reaching for the insects whenever something bugs you" he giggled, laughing at his own joke.

Suddenly, I felt my connection over the swarm disappear.

He laughed gleefully, relishing in my shock and surprise.

"The hell do you want?" I growled.

"I'm just here for a casual chat with an old friend" he replied idly, taking a seat on a pile of debris. "A pity I didn't nominate you when I had the chance."

"Like I would have joined your petty circus of murderers" I spat, trying to get the taste of copper out of my mouth. My right arm flared up with a stabbing pain. Yup, it was definitely broken.

He stood up, smirking at me as I struggled in vain to stem the loss of blood.

"Oh come on, Skitter. Think about it - you'd have fit right in! You hate authority figures and you're willing to rampage over entire empires to get your way. You can't deny that you've also left quite a pile of bodies in your wake getting what you want" he pointed out.

He continued his rant, "Consider all the steps you took to get here. You weigh the ups and downs of your actions, then you do what you know what has to be done, and tell everyone who disagrees to go to hell. We're the types of people who move the world, you know. Which, if I may add, you did quite literally at the end, with the entire cape population of the world and all."

Everything was so foggy...what is he talking about?

"Go fuck yourself. You're a sad, pathetic murderer with delusions of grandeur" I replied coldly, glaring up at him defiantly.

I tried to stand up to no avail. My body simply refused to obey.

Why couldn't I control my insects? The connection to my power was still there, it just refused to respond. It also didn't help that I had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

"I'd just like you to see things my way, for a moment. We terrorized the world with our reputations alone, Skitter. People would look in our general direction and shake and quiver in fear. But then we talk...and they listen oh so intently, oh do they listen. You miss it don't you? The ability to inspire and capture the attention of those around you. The ability to topple empires, to control the fates of worlds."

He stepped closer to stare down at me as I spasmed again in pain and helplessness.

"Honestly, the path you've chosen to take here will likely go down one way. I just wanted to give you a fair warning."

He pulled at his face, tearing it off like a thin paper mask. My own reflection stared back at me with a malicious grin and hollow black eyes.

The figure raised the knife, reveling gleefully at my look of shock and horror before stabbing it down at my helpless form.

-o-

 _"Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do_ _._

 _Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do_

65 calories in slim milk yogurt!

 _110 calories in a can of fat-free tuna!_

 _I never have more than 400 calories a day!_ "

I fluttered my eyes, and I slowly lifted my head with an agonized moan.

 _"W-w-w-what?!_

 _I know that I keep dropping pounds on a scale, but I look in the mirror and I still see a fat, disgusting whale._

Ch-ch-ch-check yo self!

 _I hate the skin I'm in!"_

I swept my gaze over the room, but I really couldn't see much because the lights had been dimmed since I passed out. There was a troupe of theater students performing on the stage, half-singing and half-rapping out a Broadway style musical performance about life at NYU.

It was pretty obvious that the university was using the medium as a means to quickly but futilely deliver urban street wisdom to a room full of privileged, sheltered teens and twenty-somethings.

 _"Anorexia, Bullimia, and hurting yourself are only temporary solutions. If you're feeling these urges, call the hotline at 1-212-443-9999..."_

I felt something shift on my left shoulder, and I turned to see Holly slumped over on my arm, fast asleep.

This girl was way too friendly and outgoing for her own good. I couldn't help but put on a faint smile - I didn't usually take to strangers well, but her personality type was all too rare in the crapsack city that was Brockton Bay.

I checked my phone, and groaned when I realize I'd somehow been passed out for over three quarters of the opening ceremony. I had been asleep for well over ninety minutes, effectively sleeping through the entire convocation speech.

So much for not missing the convocation ceremony, Taylor.

 _"Take time for yourself. Love yourself."_

On the plus side, I felt pretty refreshed, although I still felt a lingering soreness and ache. I relaxed my body, and sighed, allowing my spirits to be lifted up by the catchy, upbeat showtunes.

 _"You're in New York Citayyy!  
Got so much to see! _

_And noone can stop me, as I'm  
standing on the edge of something new!  
_

 _There's a million things to do -  
Ready to take a bite! Out of the big oll' apple"_

"Don't leave me mom...please" Holly whined next to me, clutching at my shoulders in her sleep.

Umn...

I was at a loss for how to react to that.

 _"Now you're in New York, New York! There's so much to see! The city that never sleeps!"_

I knew better than to rely on first impressions, but god, this girl just _oozed_ a vibe that seemed familiar to me. Holly reminded me of... well, me. The excitable, dorky pre-teen girl I had been before my mother died in the car crash. Before I experienced all the torment the Trio put me through in high school, and the nonstop slew of trauma I had to cope with in my two years as a cape.

Well Taylor, looks like you've made your first 'normal' college friend, let's not screw things up with her already.

 _"Ice skating in the park, holding hands after dark. We can see a barber shop! Stop for a bit of soda pop! Take a train out to Co-ney Island."_

Suddenly, tears began to leak out of Holly's eyes and she sobbed faintly in her sleep. I paled a bit at that, and I gently began to nudge at her.

 _"This is the city that never sleeps, but watch out for the creeps on the streets and trainsss. Let's go!"_

"...Mom?" she murmured slowly shifting in her sleep.

Sheesh.

 _"New York, New York, the city that never sleeps!"_

"Show's almost over, Holly" I whispered, moving her off my shoulder.

 _"Get ready for the ride of your lifeeeeee!"_

With one last dramatic cadenza, the song ended. Then the lights switched on, and the crowd roared into applause.

-o-

It was a warm and cozy evening, and the sun was just starting to set. Holly and I had spent most of the afternoon sightseeing around midtown, and I couldn't help but marvel at how the city managed to continue as normal despite the horrific damage Scion had inflicted. The sightseeing consisted mostly of Holly staring doe-eyed at points of interest, while I followed along and kept her company. Now she was taking me to the Ivory Towers to get a glimpse at what the NYU dorms were like.

"Ta-daaa!" Holly cheered, as she opened the door to her dormitory.

A room in the Ivory Towers was capable of housing six students per suite, and surprisingly, a good chunk of them were co-ed dorms. Holly was one of the lucky few who won the housing lottery and got her own room, and

The dorm was pretty big- I could immediately see an oversized couch facing a nice big screen TV. There was also some kind of breakfast nook with a big table, which had several bookshelves surrounding an array of comfortable looking beanie chairs

Sweeping the room, I could see two of her suite-mates - a blonde boy and a dark-skinned Hispanic girl, were sitting on a living room couch mid-conversation.

There was a faint smell of paint from the kitchen next to the entrance door, and I could see a tuft of black hair from someone who was leaning over a canvas. The two people on the couch turned their attention towards us as we walked in, and the boy walked over to greet us.

"Evening Holly, who's this? Did you bring your sister for a visit?" the guy squinted at me for asecond, looking back and forth. "Cousin?"

I took a brief second to look the boy over.

He had a average height and build, and a classic baby smooth prettyboy face. He had a neatly trimmed mop of golden blonde hair, and interestingly enough his eyes were a hetero-chromatic blue and green. He was wearing a red baseball jersey, and dark blue shorts.

Holly giggled at his awkward comment, and replied, "Nah, she's a new friend I made at the orientation. Her name's Taylor. Taylor? This is Grant."

I extended my prosthetic hand with a joking smile. To his credit, he returned the grin and shook the metal hunk in good faith, before replying.

"Sorry about that, you two really look alike you know? The wavy hair, the lips, the nose, the erm, long slender legs and oh uh uh don't take any of that the wrong way, I'm er, gay."

Me? Look like Holly? Don't make me laugh.

"Oh come on Grant, they look nothing alike," the girl on the couch said wryly while standing up to greet us.

She walked up to us with a confident swagger, and she had an interesting sense of fashion to say the least. Her wild shoulder-length mane was spiked up and dyed with a gradient of yellow to pink, and she wore a short tank top that bore her midriff for the world to see. Her denim jeans were cut off about an inch above her knee, and she had... _assets._ Her appearance and attitude reminded me of a grown-up, taller Aisha Laborn.

"Pleased to meet you Taylor, my name is Caitlyn. As long as you respect privacy and property rights, you'll always be welcome here... unlike a certain _someone_."

She mock-glared at the figure leaning over the canvas, who turned and waved with an awkward smile. The figure was a short girl of South Asian descent, who wore her hair at shoulder-length and was currently carrying a paint tray and brush. She had a musty old brown coat that was way too large for her draped over her as a paint apron.

"Namaste, pleased to meet you Taylor. I apologize Caitlyn, did you not like my color choices?"

"It has nothing to do with the colors! You got paint all over my Bass guitar and clarinet without asking, Jeevankala!"

"But they are so much more lively now, yes?"

"Erm, hold on Taylor, I need to get started on dinner guys," Holly excused herself.

"No! ...Well, just a bit, but I'm still mad because you should have asked before you took two of my instruments and turned them into a goddamn art project. You wouldn't want me to take all you art supplies and tape them together to make an instrument would you?

Jeevankala cupped her chin for a moment, before shaking her head,

"And there's the problem with-" Caitlyn began.

"I would not mind if you did that" Jeevankala answered with earnesty.

Suddenly, one of the doors in the corridor opened up, and a peach-skinned guy with square rim glasses and a ponytail poked his head out. I could faintly hear the sound of woodwind zen music emanating from his room.

"Man, what's the commotion all about? Can't a guy meditate in peace here?"

"Holly brought a friend over" Grant stated, his face frozen in a state of awkward perplexity from the exchange between Caitlyn and Jeevankala.

"The energy here is so hectic, we need more tranquility to balance it all out."

"Energy?" I asked.

"Energy! You know, auras? The fundamental forces that connect everything in the world? There are all kinds of energy, you know, if there's too much of one kind everything gets thrown out of balance!"

"I'm living with a bunch of lunatics" Grant muttered to himself. "Sorry to disturb you Carter, but we'll try to keep things down."

"Thanks! I'm going to keep meditating, any of you are free to join me."

He gave everyone a thumbs up, before shutting his door.

Jeevankala and Caitlyn took a moment to stare at the closed room before returning to their argument.

"See, I don't know where you got the ideas you have, but this is America, where we have private property rights."

"From one artist to another Caitlyn, have you never had an idea so powerful that it takes over your thoughts? When inspiration strikes, everything is like a canvas.

I couldn't help myself, and started laughing. Just a continuous, non-stop chortle, and everyone turned their heads to stare at me.

"Way to go you lunatics, you broke her" Grant deadpanned.

The last year had felt like a constant dream to me, like none of it was real and that I had truly died and gone to some sort of dissociative purgatory as I shambled day to day, living, but not quite living at the same time.

I knew I was a basket case - all the signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder were there. The only reason why I continued to live on was because Dad had been the singular source of comfort that had grounded me to reality where I felt like I could have snapped at any moment.

It would take a while for me to accept the peaceful, simple, _normality_ that had fallen around me, laughing, chatting, just being in the company of human beings.

It was sobering to realize, then and there, that it was these small, seemingly insignificant moments that made life worth living.

Now if only I could keep these peaceful and simple aspects of life away from the psychopaths with superpowers this time.

* * *

The night is dark and full of red herrings.


	14. Interlude - Silver Mercy

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah I don't own Worm, Wildbow aka John McCrae does.

* * *

A/N: Chapters in chronological order: 1.10, Interlude - Silver Mercy, 1.9

* * *

As a rule, Finn, Kevin, and Seamus did everything together. They went through grade school all the way through high school and stopped. None of them made it into a college worth going to, all because of the grand conspiracy keeping them back.

Now that they were in their late twenties, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Two of them were third sons and one of them was a fourth son, and there really wasn't anything left for them. Finn and Kevin worked in construction with the connections their families got them, and Seamus, well, he just lived off his parents. For the three of them, the night began with the three of them drinking at the Westies-owned O'Hara's bar in the East Village until they were thrown out, which usually took an hour or two.

On this fine, cozy Monday evening, they were between bars in their nightly bar hop, and running low on cash for the evening. The three of them were usually safe to be around between the hours of midnight and three a.m. By then, they would usually be passed out and sleeping in one of their respective houses in a pool of empty beer cans and liquor bottles. However, at eight o'clock, the three of them were more than a little more than riled up, their senses and inhibitions dulled by alcohol.

Fortunately, luck came upon them this night, in the form of a single lone dame strolling on her way down a desolate, dimly lit street

"Hey babe," Seamus croaked, standing in her path. His body reeked of beer as he spoke. "Why don't you come and party with us?"

The lady stared at him, her eyes wide. She frantically looked around, and there was no one in sight, except for Kevin and Finn who were eyeing her lasciviously.

"I don't want any trouble," the woman began, "My husband is a cop, and he's not the nicest guy around."

Kevin laughed and simply grabbed at her purse. The lady tried to pull free, screaming in distress, before Kevin's backhand sent her sprawling on the floor. The woman tried to stand up and run, but Kevin backhanded her again, ripping her blouse open and exposing her bra. Seamus whistled, and Finn licked his lips as Kevin pushed her down and cracked his knuckles.

"Please, stop!" she sobbed, the tears streaming down her face as her lips bled.

"Just shaddup and take it lady!" Kevin grinned.

She began to struggle again, and Kevin pounded his fist down at her mouth again, and again, and again, until she stopped moving. Then, Kevin began to reach for his belt buckle.

Suddenly, the three felt a gust of wind, and Kevin was sent flying across the street. Where Kevin was a moment ago, stood a tall, thin teenaged boy with chin-length blonde locks.

The teenager wore an ill-fitted viking helmet, hockey mask, and leather vest and leggings that looked like they came out of a renaissance faire. His get-up was frankly ridiculous, but his right arm was extended in the finishing position of what looked like a wild haymaker.

Seamus and Finn took a second to blink in surprise at the figure standing in front of them, before collecting their wits and charging at the teenager.

-o-

 _"Oh god oh god I'm so dead"_ Tom thought frantically to himself.

He ducked as the larger of the two standing thugs whipped out a blackjack, and cracked it horizontally at his head. He scrambled backwards down the alleyway, trying to gain some distance to use his power.

 _I REALLY don't have any business being here_. Tom thought to himself, picking up a discarded iron frame to block an overhead swing as the two thugs methodically cut him off.

He knew he was out of his depth dressing up and patrolling the Greenpoint Strait without the rest of the Initiative backing him, but Night Raven, ' _Truesight'_ was adamant about not seeking out trouble. It was far too late to think about the series of poor life decisions that had led up to this point.

Born as a member of a pair of fraternal twin sons to a pair of wealthy investment bankers, Tom had grown up surrounded by privilege. He had grown up in the upper east side, and he and his brother had been provided everything they could have ever wanted by their loving parents.

However, money could not buy everything, and there was a deep-seated insecurity that had always wounded Tom to the core. Tom had always come up in second place in the areas that mattered to him, compared to his brother. Tom had always been an exceptionally talented endurance athlete, but it seemed that he had gotten little else. His brother was better looking, and took the one thing Tom had always wanted for granted.

Tom had been born with Spatial Dysgraphia. He had a moderately impaired sense of space, but that impairment carried on through the rest of his life. Tying rope was impossible for Tom, his writing speed was delayed, and he could not perceive depth well enough to draw anything. He had run out of time a countless number of times taking exams over the years, all because he could never write quickly enough without sacrificing clarity, and vice versa.

His brother had gone on to a prestigious, tier 1 University this year, while he had landed in the CUNY system with mediocre grades, held back by his inability to write with his hands. A disability that teachers who were overwhelmed by huge class sizes and grading did not understand.

One day while rushing to catch a bus, Tom suddenly found himself running faster and faster, far beyond what he was capable of, and before he knew it, he had found himself outrunning several speeding cars and continued to dash ahead at superhuman speeds before crashing straight into the side of an empty skate park.

He stepped back, marveling at the human shaped indent he had left in stone, and knew he had been given a gift. He would no longer be cursed with a life of mediocrity, having finally been dealt a decent hand in life as one of the few "metahumans" that manifested special abilities.

Which brought him back to the current predicament - his power allowed him to gain durability and accelerate endlessly as he ran in a straight line. However, any attempt to stop or change directions would cause the power to diffuse rapidly, leaving him vulnerable and squishy. It was great for a sucker punch like the one he just threw, but it was almost useless without a second or two of preparation to accelerate.

He chastised himself for making the grave error of jumping to the aid of the woman the way he did. His power required a bit of a run-up to charge up, and there was very little room to maneuver in the alleyway.

 _I can do this!_

He feinted a counter-punch, then timed a forward dive as they fumbled past him in a drunken daze. He had a good three or four meters to-

*THUD*

The smaller of the two thugs charged at him, grabbing his legs and dropping him into a tackle. The smaller thug straddled Tom, and clocked him on the jaw with a closed fist, causing Tom's world to explode into color. Then he felt impact after impact on his ribs and face, before a melodic voice filled his ears.

"Oh stop beating on the boy, you sniveling peasants."

 _What's going on?_

Tom opened his eyes, sorry, eye to see the thug that was straddling him blinking furiously. There was a sort of thick dustiness in the air, and it clustered heavily around the man that had been beating the life out of him a second earlier.

"Get off of him."

The thug complied, standing off to the side by the larger thug that had been soccer kicking his ribs.

Tom panted, looking up at the woman that had come to his rescue as she walked out of the shadows and into the gloom. She wore an elegant, excessively extravagant silver-blue Victorian dress, and her face was hidden behind a matching silver-white Venetian mask. Her raven black hair flowed freely down to the middle of her back.

"Thanks for the assist, my name's Inertia. Who are you?"

His savior simply stood, remaining eerily silent. She finally responded after what felt like an eternity.

"My name... is Shina Kako, but you may call me Silver Mercy I suppose."

The woman eyed Inertia up and down. "What a shame. You are not nearly as splendid as my _beloved_ , or the good doctor who had taken care of me for the past few weeks."

"Your beloved?" Tom raised an eyebrow.

"The only one who would be so bold and brilliant to bring order to this city."

She sighed wistfully, dragging the back of her hand across her mask.

"But I digress, a lady must patient, and a lady will have her prince in time."

She gestured towards one of the fallen thugs, struggling to stand up.

"Now let us dissertate over what we shall do with the rabble, shall we? They have ravaged this innocent woman, and must be punished in due course."

She walked up to the larger of the two thugs, stroking at his chin.

"Wouldn't it be nice if you put his head through the wall at the end of the alley?"

Of course! That was a perfectly reasonable suggestion.

Inertia took a step back then charged forward, grabbing the large man's face with his hand. He continued down his course, dragging the thrashing man along the floor. Finally, Inertia slammed into the wall with enough force to pop the man's head like a watermelon.

"One down, now what shall we do with the other two?" she wondered out loud.

Inertia turned, walking up to the other man who blankly stared ahead. Blood and gray-silver brain matter dripped from Inertia's hand as Silver Mercy contemplated the other thug's fate.

"Hmm, the first kill was far too messy. Let us settle for something more... elegant this time. Do you know any martial arts?"

"A little, not much" Inertia stated truthfully. He had been studying with the Initiative after all.

"Wonderful. Break his neck."

Inertia stepped back, then ran into a flying sidekick straight into the smaller thug's throat. The man's windpipe caved in with a faint *pop* and he fell to the ground convulsing.

It felt so right, so _wonderful_ Inertia thought to himself as the man's life force slowly faded to nil.

She looked him in the eye.

"You enjoyed butchering those thugs, didn't you?"

"Yes." Inertia replied with glee. A small, sadistic smile spread across his face.

"Excellent, you might just make a fine servant after all."

She returned the smile, before glancing down towards the last unconscious thug Inertia had knocked out.

"Now, what shall we do for the last one?"

-o-

Kevin Wilson and Madeline McCoy sat in their unmarked squad car. The parking lot's dim street lights shone down on them, almost like a pair of theater spotlights.

Wilson was feverishly typing into a tablet, which bathed his skinny face with a ghostly light. Maddie looked on, sitting in the driver's seat, calmly sipping her coffee.

"The bodies were found on Avenue A, right?"

"Yup" she answered, continuing to sip on her coffee.

Wilson grinned up at her. "I'm bringing up the traffic cam records from around the time of death. There's a possibility they picked up what was going on."

"I hope so too" Maddie replied, massaging her temple with her left hand.

Wilson tapped a key, and cried out triumphantly. "Bingo! Here we go!" He angled the display so McCoy could see it better. The camera had caught a good chunk of the action. It showed the ghostly image of a girl being assaulted and tossed into an alleyway.

One of the men positioned himself over the woman, and started pounding on her face mercilessly. Suddenly, a teenager dressed as a viking with a hockey mask zoomed on screen as a blur, and collided with the man straddling the woman, launching him far into the alleyway.

The shadows reflected on the alleyway was telling. It spoke of a futile fight between a wannabe vigilante with little to no training, and two thugs with known ties to the Irish mob. Suddenly, a woman in an flamboyant Victorian dress walked into the camera's field of vision, and the camera feed began to sputter. It skewed left and right, and the feed cut out entirely.

"What the fuck?!" Wilson shouted. McCoy stared at the screen for a moment, then looked up at the frustrated Kevin Wilson.

"Look, it's getting late, and we don't have any leads on the new capes yet. We can't even open a case for assault and battery, seeing how the perpetrators are in fact, dead. Let's call it a night, Kevin."

Wilson sighed, "When will the medical examiner be finished with the bodies?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Fine then, let's go. Soon as we get his report we're going to have to decide whether or not to pursue this further. Why is all the weird superpower bullshit happening in our district?"

Maddie shook her head. Despite seeming like the stricter of the pair, which were so bluntly pointed out by their fellow cops, Madeline McCoy was actually the more easygoing of the two. Kevin Wilson sometimes had a habit of beating cases to death, to the point of obsession.

She finished her coffee, and started up the engine.

 _Worst. Month. Ever._


	15. Arc 2: Turbulence 2-1

Disclaimer: I don't own Worm, Worm is the intellectual property of Wildbow aka John McCrae. The Craecrae, Boarpig, First of his name.

* * *

A/N: I actually wrote about 5000 words of slice of life, but got fed up with the pacing issues it was causing and scrapped that chapter. I saved the important bits to slip in when I deem it appropriate, or maybe post it down this arc as a flashback chapter.

* * *

 **Taylor**

There was something intimately familiar about running around at the break of dawn, but unlike Brockton Bay, this city never seemed to sleep. It was six thirty in the morning, and the shadows were still long from the overcast of the cloudy morning sun. The shadows swayed gently against the dim light cast by dozens of streetlights.

It was a wonderful feeling to be running around, feeling the wind flow around my curls after spending months in physical therapy and rehab. Getting around the balance issues from having only one arm was still going to take getting used to, but I was slowly regaining my stamina over time. My endurance had improved leaps and bounds over orientation week, but I chalked that up to all the time I'd spent with the members of the Ivory Towers Room 9C.

I had I had gotten to know them a little better in the one week between convocation. I even had my first lecture with Grant Summers who was on a pre-med biomedical research track.

...

 _Holly snored lightly as I stepped out of the spare bed. I slowly tip-toeing to the bedroom, and I was greeted by the sight of Grant, Carter, and Jeevankala were standing around in jogging clothes, doing stretches._

 _"Oh good morning. What's going on?" I asked._

 _"We were just about to head out! The three of us all like to go jogging in the mornings, and we were about to hit the Brooklyn Bridge together. I heard the view's wicked this time of the year." Carter rambled excitedly, adjusting his glasses while tying his shoulder length hair up with a hair band._

 _"You should come along, Taylor" Grant chimed in. "There's nothing like a run to get your pulse up, and staying fit is important with all the late-night study sessions we're going to be pulling here."_

 _"It's true, plus it is an excellent way to learn your way around the city" Jeevankala stated, puffing as she struggled to get her foot on a chair that was too high for her to stretch her legs._

 _I stared at the three of them for a moment, mouth agape in disbelief._

 _"Sure, I'd love to."_

...

I smiled fondly at the relatively recent memory of jogging over the Brooklyn Bridge at the break of dawn. The view from the bridge had been amazing, but unfortunately, it was hard to find a great jogging route like that living on the Lower East Side.

I was still looking for a decent route like I the one I had back at home. One that would be empty of vagrants, gang members and general crime while free from the major crowded hubs. Sadly I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to find that luxury where I was living.

A brisk lap around Alphabet City would have to do until I could find better arrangements though. I absentmindedly brushed my left hand over the familiar weight of a can of pepper spray as I turned down another block.

Fifteen minutes later, I'd finished my route, and I casually jogged back towards home. I bought a pastrami sandwich from the deli down around the corner, and went up my apartment to get cleaned up and dressed.

It was my first day of school, as well as my first day of work, and I could hardly keep my apprehension in check. What were my professors going to be like? What kinds of people would I meet in my first day of classes? What would working with a budding, clandestine _hero_ team be like?

Well, one thing's for sure. I was going to find out pretty soon.

-o-

 **Professor Leonard Rubin**

"And with the end of our first lecture, I would just like to take a moment to make an announcement."

Professor Leonard Rubin, cleared his throat as he picked up the podium microphone. He was a rather ordinary-looking but somewhat handsome man, standing at a slightly above average height with a neatly kept light-brown wavy hairstyle, a white oxford cotton shirt adorned with a blue tie, and brown slacks. He was clean-shaven, and he wore a prominent black Casio watch which he reflexively checked time to time.

"Many of you are here, I imagine, because you had a cool science teacher in high school. Or maybe your dad always had SyFy on. Then again, that channel is less science fiction and more reality TV nowadays."

Leo had given the same opening speech a hundred times by now, to thousands of students at a dozen different schools. Most adjuncts were nomads, and Leo proved to be no exception to that trend. On one semester, he had clocked in over 10,000 miles on his old Toyota Avalon through the New England higher education bloc. While some might think the students at a large, first tier private university like NYU would be more interested in the lecture material, it just wasn't true.

The students were, for the most part, the same wherever Leo went - distracted and disengaged.

"Most of you are freshmen, I presume, most likely going through a pre-medical, science, or engineering track. That means, if statistics hold, that nearly forty percent of you won't be here next year."

 _And I bet nearly thirty percent of you are asleep right now._ He pondered as a good chunk of the lecture hall snapped up to stare at him in shock.

"I won't mince niceties, like my fellow professors tend to do. I speak to you today not just as your teacher, but also as a peer. Accounting, business, social work, history… I don't know which it will be, but this course will drive many of you out of the discipline into another. Some would even say that's the job of an introductory course professor like me. To cull the herd so to speak."

Leo sighed silently to himself as his gaze swept over the large lecture hall. Students lining the back of the nondescript classroom tapped away at their phones, and a few in the middle napped unashamedly with their heads down.

There were a couple sitting at the front of the room, no more than dozen total. Leo knew the type - hyper-competitive 'A' students and homeschooled children. A nerdy looking girl with a prosthetic metal arm stared at him attentively on the right, tapping her pen impatiently while he droned on in his introduction. Off to the left, a blonde who looked like she came from a good suburban home was giving him _that_ look. His introductory lectures always had one or two of those.

He shivered in revulsion at the blonde's fawning look, and continued his speech.

"But that's all okay! I started college thirteen years ago as a media and communications major with a minor in theater. I had imagined backpacking through Europe, snapping photos, and writing about my fantastic adventures. Vogue would have be my main employer, of course, and if I couldn't cut it there I would have fallen back to acting in Independent films and maybe a gig or two on Broadway." He grinned while a few of the students chuckled nervously.

The only one smiling was the girl to his left. His front-row crew, eyes on their notes, were jotting down "Vogue" at the bottom of her lecture notes as if it would be on the test.

"In my second year however, I realized that it was a fool's dream, and I pursued a career in chemical engineering."

He adjusted the podium as a wave of feedback blasted out of the microphone.

"A good chunk of you, especially those of you on the pre-medical track will unfortunately wash out. Some of you will leave because you love your chosen fields far too much."

Leo paused for dramatic effect. The few students who were alert glanced at each other. To the credit of the people in the front, none of them so much as flinched.

"I'm telling you here that the worst scientists are the ones who love science."

One of the guys in the front row, a wholesome, privileged type with a varsity athletic jacket stared straight at Leo. His eyes were furrowed in disbelief, and he struck Leo as a sheltered golden child.

"You can study science, you can admire it, and recognize that it is the single most important building block to our world. You cannot however, fall in love with her."

"I've known a large number of people in science who studied science out of pure, unbridled passion. It didn't matter if they were chemists, pre-meds, engineers, or physicists. They chose the discipline for the magic, the dreams, and the wonder that science would bring them. All of them either became disillusioned with the crunch in the end. They either walked out with a diploma they would never use, or they dropped out of their programs partway through after years of misery."

He stopped to give the Golden Boy a reassuring smile.

"Some of you are probably already disturbed by this, but as we begin Intensive Chemistry, I want you to understand that I am _not_ trying to discourage you from pursuing your respective tracks. I want you to understand _exactly_ what you're getting into. A scientist must remain detached and focused on the numbers and analysis. Separate. Objective. Focused purely on reason. If you have any emotional attachment to the discipline, any goals other than abject analysis or to use as a tool...you'll be better off signing up for an EMT course or switching over to a creative writing major."

He paced up to the front row.

"There's a syllabus for each of you on the front desk, and you are all responsible for the contents within. I trust you will all take care to read it carefully."

 _Although I know most of you won't even bother._

Leo gently grabbed his bag, and walked out the door with an exaggerated flourish of his left hand.

-o-

 **Taylor**

"Wow, Professor Rubin seriously seems to have zero tolerance for bullshit, huh?" Grant grumbled as we stepped out of the large lecture hall.

I held up the syllabus in my one good hand, and groaned as I saw the homework load that Professor Rubin assigned us. Fortunately, I would have plenty of free time between classes to do my work.

Intensive Chemistry was going to be a tough course, but I didn't mind the challenge. I hoped my other lecturers would be a little...less abrasive than Professor Rubin was though.

Since I had some...issues with authority and structure, the Gallatin School of Individualized Studies had been attractive option for the amount of freedom it had brought me. As a student in Gallatin, I was free to take whatever classes I wanted to build my own "concentration" over the course of four years. It helped that I had twenty-something transfer credits from community college to alleviate the course load, giving me ample time and energy to put a concentration together.

Eight credits of chemistry was a pre-requisite for a good chunk of science -based concentrations and programs. Intensive Chemistry had stuck out to me in the course selection for being worth eight credits total - six hours of lecture, with an accompanying two-credit lab course.

"So, when's your next class?" Grant asked me.

"I'm free until chem lab orientation later in the afternoon" I responded. "I ended up stacking two of my Gallatin interdisciplinary seminars on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which is going to be make up the rest of my course load for the rest of this semester."

"Hey...about that. If it isn't too much trouble, could you take notes for me at the lab lab tonight Taylor?"

"You can't make it to class?" I replied with surprise.

He looked to the side, and a look of worry momentarily flashed across his face.

"Yeah, it's a personal thing."

I nodded, "Alright then, I'll get them to you over Facebook. In the meantime, I've gotta meet my boss for lunch."

Grant perked up a little at that, and his worried look was replaced by a feigned smile.

"Oh yeah, You mentioned you got a job at a start-up right? How did you manage that on your first week Taylor? As a freshman too!"

"Erm, funny story. Turns out one of the co-founders is a Senior at NYU, and I literally ran into him while he was printing Welcome Week flyers. As fate would have it, I bumped into him again the next day, and I had some niche tech skills they were looking for."

Half-truth, but whatever.

"Wow that's lucky. Well...best of luck with your boss, Taylor."

 _If only you knew Grant, if only you knew._

I nodded, and began to walk outside the building. I took a moment to lean against the wall as a crowd of students filed in for their classes, when suddenly I was struck by a sense of vertigo and my world began to spin.

 _My vision zoomed around in the air, disseminating itself through hundreds of compound eyes as they slowed to a crawl in the air. I thrashed mentally, surprised by the sudden out-of-body experience. There was a human male intersecting my points of view, and I found myself staring down at Grant_ _as he was checking his e-mail from his phone. The exact words were too hard to make out through the eyes of the insects I had accidentally hijacked, but I could make out the NYPD logo next to a mugshot through the distorted images._

In a flash, my sudden link with the insect swarm disconnected, and I stumbled a little against the wall. What the hell was that?

I turned around and stared at Grant through the crowd of students filing in and out of the academic. He was checking his phone and poking at it with worry.

I furrowed my eyebrows in thought. My instincts told me that something was afoot here, and that I should look into it later _._

I turned around and headed down the street towards the subway.

-o-

 **Professor Leonard Rubin**

The basement hallway of the academic building was nondescript. It could have been in any other city - at any other school. They all looked the same to Leo after a while, with the same posters advertising the circus that was university life.

 _All of this has been a big fucking mistake_ , Leo thought, passing down the hall, arriving at a set of private lockers for the staff.

The first time he had given that opening lecture was nearly a decade ago, back when he was teaching his first class straight of undergrad. He was a wet-behind-the-ears PhD student, desperate to hide his ignorance. Prior to class he was sick, literally. He had eaten some god awful shrimp that had sat in the fridge way too long, and was trying desperately to keep it down as he lectured to a small class of wide-eyed idealistic undergrads.

Nevertheless, he cleaned himself off, and managed to play his part to a tee, opening his ever first lecture with a chorus of applause.

He had had a fair amount of theater training in undergrad, and the students ate the speech straight out of his hand.

A decade ago, that lecture was his love letter to young scientists across America - an invitation to inquiry, discovery, and wonder in the face of the vast study of reality and existence. Over ten years of delivery, he realized he had given up his passions for adventure and theatrics for something he was also 'somewhat' passionate about but lead to the same career dead end he'd been trying to avoid in the first place. His opening lecture got shorter and terser, and the timing too, had moved from the start of the first lecture to the end. It had evolved from a hospitable invitation to the great guild of science into a giant "screw you"to anyone who thought they might have belonged.

At least there was still a certain "extracurricular" Leo looked forward to. Ever since late April, a sudden moment of serendipity gave his stagnant, miserable existence a new spark of life. He had re-kindled a passion he hadn't even known he'd lost.

Leo looked left and right, checking to make sure no-one was around in the dim basement before opening his locker.

A beautiful, chaotic mess of purple armor, spiky shoulder pads, amazingly angular red glasses, hair wax, and a makeup kit greeted Leo in return.

Getting tenure and a proper research position had proved to be a hopeless dream, but perhaps his misguided fallback plan would prove not be so misguided after all.

He grinned, brandishing the glasses with an exaggerated flourish.

 _Showtime!_

-o-

 **Alex**

"How was orientation week?"

"Better than I expected" she replied with a faint smile. "I know it was just supposed to get us acclimated with the campus and the environment and all, but it really did feel like a one week vacation."

Saint Lang'a tea-house was one of those trendy teahouses lurking in the corners of Chelsea, with good decor, mild mannered crowds, and a slight bit of a price tag. The dimly lit tea-house was fairly packed since it was a Monday at lunch hour, and filled with chattery yuppies from the surrounding area. It was an ideal environment to meet and talk with someone.

Hot steaming vapor wafted up from the cup in front of me as I poured Taylor a cup of the tea I'd ordered.

"This is some really good stuff. 'Steel Buddha' Oolong was always one of my mom's favorites."

In response, she simply held the teacup with her good hand, and I toasted her my own. She leaned back and sipped it.

"Mmm..." she sighed with bliss, "So Alex, let's talk about work, shall we?"

"You mean hours, timeslots, and all that stuff, or are you looking to catch up with our current projects and whatnot?"

"Yes" she replied, continuing to sip her tea. She smirked, as if laughing at an inside joke.

I chuckled at the mathematician's response.

"Honestly Taylor, just come in whenever you want. This 'Protocols - Chapter 1' report you just gave me is pure gold, although I find it kind of foreboding how Earth Bet's Parahuman Response Teams solved almost every high level threat with a 'Run Away and Shoot Cruise Missiles' protocol."

"I'm pretty sure sooner or later we're going to have to do just that here" she said without any irony whatsoever.

Well if that wasn't just peachy.

"Anyway, Val and I have set you up on the payroll for 20 hours a week as an 'engineeing intern.' Your checking account should have received a four hundred dollar deposit an hour ago."

She choked on her tea, and muttered something.

"Sorry?"

"I'll never get used to people digging out information about me out of nowhere and funds being magically credited to my name."

I responded with a mirth-filled chuckle, "I'm pretty sure there's a story there, but as usual, I won't pry."

"More or less, at least this time I'm staring my benefactor in the face, and he isn't a member of some shadowy conspiracy that secretly controls the city, or the world."

Taylor paused for a moment with a desperate, deer-in-headlights look.

"...Right?"

"Hahaha no. I'm just an average guy who was given a gift, or curse depending on how you look at it. I honestly don't like being heavy-handed, you know? I'm filled with a sense of revulsion every time I'm forced to fight, but someone has to keep the criminals in check. The cops are severely undermanned, underfunded, and under-trained, and now we have assholes who started running around the city abusing superpowers. Killing people and mind controlling people, even."

She groaned, before asking the million dollar question. "There's a new villain cape on the scene, isn't there?"

"Yeah... just take a look at this."

I flicked my phone open, and passed her an ear-bud before I started playing one of the videos Maddie compiled for me on her new flash drive. It was late at night, and the streets were desolate off pine street in the financial district. This was camera footage from an asset management firm, and they really didn't skimp on resolution quality. The timestamp was dated back to last Friday.

A couple of seconds later, a woman in an extravagant silver dress with a mask walked by and a construction foreman crossed her path before turning around.

 _"Nice silks lady" the man whistled. "How's about you and me get to know each other better."_

 _I winced, knowing what was coming._

 _"Yes, they are a lavish pair indeed. Who gave a person of your standing the right to even grace my presence, much less speak to me?" she demanded._

 _"Easy easy there, not a lot of dames who can rock a marvelous dress like you can in this city, you know?"_

 _"I know perfectly well where I stand in relation to the masses. Honestly I don't know why I even bother responding to mongrels like you. Why don't you show me how long it'll take for you to put your reproductive organs through the edge of that building?"_

 _"Of course, my lady."_

 _He walked over, and thrust his hip forward, screaming with a an audible crunch, which was as clear as day even through the iffy sound quality._

 _He walked back, and ran into the edge of the building with another yelp._

I turned off the phone as he reared back to thrust his hip forward again.

"The victim survived, but he's still in critical condition at Beth Israel Hospital. Needless to say, he won't ever be able to have children, and he'll be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life if he's lucky enough to pull through."

Taylor just stared at the closed phone. She was pale with shock, and she was hyperventilating a little.

"Have there been any signs of her since?" she asked nervously.

"No. The police have gotten an active alert, and they're on the lookout for this woman with a massive caution to keep their distance. However, she hasn't appeared in public since this video was taken. The police are also sure they can attribute about a dozen or two mysterious, brutal deaths in the last month to her freaky mind control powers."

Suddenly, Taylor gave me the most _intense_ stare. It felt like I was back with her in the cafe again.

"You need to be careful too. Masters and Strangers were considered the most dangerous capes to go against for a reason by the PRT."

I laughed it off with false confidence.

"Don't worry, I'm taking a vacation Taylor, although I do plan on re-entering the arena with a bang. I wouldn't seek her out unless I knew exactly how I was going to take her down."

"I'm serious. Even to gather information...getting snared by a power like her's _will_ be one of the worst things you will ever experience. I've seen powers like that break people, almost literally."

"Hey, we'll figure something out" I reassured her, although I did admit the idea of being mind controlled sounded existentially terrifying.

"Just be careful, Alex" she said, eyes full of dread.

-o-

I finished paying for our afternoon tea, and Taylor and I went our separate ways. Taylor needed to get back to NYU for her lab class in two hours, and I had more programming to do.

Superheroism didn't come cheap you know.

Rounding the corner, I tracked the silicon chips in her phone and turned into a back-alley. I yanked myself onto a fire escape, and made my way up to the roof. This was the quickest and quietest way to get to my apartment. Taking a look over at Taylor two and a half blocks over, I smiled as she walked into a bank to check on her account balance at the ATM. A look of shock and surprise crossed her face as she read off the numbers.

I may have understated the number of zeroes by an order of magnitude or two.

Just as I was about to turn away, a truck veered off the west highway and smashed straight into the bank.

Before I could even react, a blue/yellow blur hopped out of the truck and dashed into the bank, followed by a figure with a red demon mask. A brown-haired woman in black-green spandex hopped out a second later.

Suddenly, a green dome shimmered into existence around the truck, covering the entrance to the bank with a solid force field in the process.

All I could do in that moment, was stare at the scene in disbelief.

 _ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!_


	16. Turbulence 2-2

Disclaimer: Wildbow owns Worm, my OCs belong to my Weaver Dice group though.

* * *

Since the dawn of the 21st century, small and local community banks had suffered an average sum of 200 bank robberies each year in New York City. Unlike the noisy, dramatic affairs that captured the public imagination however, these robberies were more often than not conducted discreetly.

The robberies tended to be as simple as a quiet note slipped to a teller, warning of violence if he did not comply.

Noise and attention was awful for a criminal's livelihood, after all.

"So, would someone care to explain to me why're hitting this bank in broad daylight, by ramming a goddamned TRUCK into it, no less?" I deadpanned.

Our driver turned off the West Highway, heading straight for the First Chelsea Trust Bank. Her codename was Apophis, and her simple costume had a medusa-like theme to it, with a Grecian burial mask and a Greek toga. She didn't talk much, and all I knew about the tall, ivory-skinned woman was that she could turn strands of her hair into snakes that she could control from afar.

"Figure it out yourself, boy" Phaser answered dryly.

He dusted himself off, and adjusted his uniform in preparation for the looming crash. Standing at a towering 6'3 with red and black color scheme and demon mask that practically SCREAMED supervillain, Phaser made for an intimidating sight. The large man was the only one of us with a direct if somewhat loose connection to the Brims, and our...'employer' had appointed him as the head of our little strike team.

"He wants to send a message" a feminine voice responded with a sly smile. "That Bank is owned by Don Bozzelli, who keeps some of his most valuable effects in a deposit box here. The Boss just wants proof that we're worth our salt while simultaneously flipping off the city's traditional kingpin."

I scowled a little when I heard her speak. I'd seriously needed the money the Baller Brims were willing to pay out, but I still felt like I had been press-ganged into the job by the eponymous 'Enigma'.

Enigma's eye mask was narrow, and faded against an extra layer of eyeliner she applied around her eye sockets. Her hair was tied into a braided brown ponytail, and her costume was skintight - green with bands of black across the chest and down the sides of her arms, legs, and body. An image of a stylized question mark was worked into the costume's design, and a compact utility belt sat diagonally across her hips, sporting a variety of compact pockets and pouches. A half-mask covered her face beneath the nose, distorting her voice as she spoke. She smirked at me through her mask as she wrapped a cloak and cowl around herself.

I turned my eyes to look at Euclid, the Hispanic teenager sitting in the middle of the truck with an array of complicated machinery covering his body. He had spent the entire ride fiddling around with two large contraptions in the middle of the truck.

I side-eyed the devices he was fiddling with warily.

"Just stick to your part of the plan and we'll be fine" the Hispanic teenager spoke, catching my gaze. "Get inside and run my E&M modulation scrambler over the security nodes we'd mapped out beforehand. Phaser blows the vault apart, Enigma incapacitates the guards, and the driver takes the civilians hostages while we do our work. It's a simple milk run."

"Hostages" I responded with irritation. "And how exactly do you expect us to actually get away once we get a platoon of squad called down on our heads? None of us are exactly Superman here, and there's only so much punishment your freakishly upgraded truck can take before we're enclosed in by a dozen patrol cars and APCs."

"That will be the easy part, and we'll have several options to escape when the time comes" Euclid replied calmly. "For instance, each of you have been given a shunt drive, which will launch you to a stealthed UAV drone I've programmed to extract us from above. Fair warning though, I designed it for functionality not comfort, and you'll be flung through the air rather violently via gravitational lurch."

I looked up into the sky, and I could actually make out a black dot floating over the bank. Well that alleviated my worries.

Slightly.

"Now get ready to jump out everyone - the kinetic energy absorbed from the impact will provide the activation energy for my forcefield, which will run for approximately fifteen minutes. Consider that to be our time limit."

Before I could respond, Apophis hit the gas pedal, accelerating the truck rammed straight into the side entrance of the bank. I sighed, grabbing onto the bag full of electronic devices from the bag, and ran out as my world turned blue.

-o-

The rest of the team walked into the front lobby of the bank behind me, and Apophis's snakes flooded into the room.

Enigma blinked into the room before anyone could react appearing next to the seven guards who watched over the room with a shadowy distortion between each step. Each of the guards were quickly disarmed and tasered, collapsing into convulsing mess on the ground. Moving in synch, I ran into the room, placing Euclid's devices at the key nodes we had marked beforehand which would disable the bank's surveillance and security systems. Phaser and I were relatively well known quantities, but the boss had wanted to reveal as little of our abilities and tactics as possible.

Apophis's snakes made for a nightmarish swarm, dozens in number. They quickly herded the screaming and shrieking civilians into corner and dare I say, _snaked_ around the ankles and the arms and legs of anyone they could.

"Everybody on the ground!" Phaser shouted, firing off five simultaneous streaks of laser towards the ceiling with a loud schwooshing sound, one from each of his fingers.

"Ten minutes." Enigma called out to the room, warping in next to Phaser. "We won't be here any longer than that. Stay put, stay quiet, no one gets hurt. We'll be gone before the ten minutes are up. This is not a movie, this is not a joke. If you're thinking about being a hero, don't. You'll just get yourself and the people around you hurt. Each one of you currently has anywhere between two to five venomous snakes wrapped around your limbs, and my colleague here can sense every movement you make. Try to call the police or make any sudden movements, and she'll have them bite down on you, relentlessly."

I glanced around the room, and the full reality of what we were doing finally set in. One of the three men standing behind the glass booths, hyperventilated in visible fear. A curly haired teenager with a prosthetic arm glared at us with eyes of sheer, defiant anger. There were about thirty people in the room, most of whom were reasonably well off. I felt a tug of guilt as I saw a young boy, no older than six sob against a pregnant woman's legs.

Satisfied that the hostages would stay reasonably compliant, Phaser made his way up to the main vault door, palmed his two hands together, and began to sear through the with an intense blast of visible red heat.

 _So far so good_ … _let's hope our luck continues to hold out_.

-o-

"Any luck?" a light baritone voice spoke our communications systems.

"Nothing, I can't get the drone inside" I muttered, fiddling around with the joystick on a nearby roof as the surveillance drone swayed in the city wind.

Five minutes ago, I had been casually binge watching Cowboy Bebop with Jon when Alex's frantic voice popped onto the audio system, rambling about a bank robbery right outside our door.

For whatever reason, I was hardly surprised at the turn of events based on our recent string of fortune.

"The barrier's successfully keeping the drone out from the top, and the first responders have started chipping at it to no avail. Have you taken a look at the dome in person yet?"

"Yeah" Alex's voice buzzed over the earpiece. "First thing I did was sweep the side perimeter. The barrier is weaker in the back, and I've been probing it with my power. I'm pretty sure I can hold it open for about a second. That's long enough to slip inside if I can get a good running start."

He sighed audibly over the comm link.

"Looks like I'm going to be making my full debut a lot sooner than I'd like."

I bit my lip in trepidation.

"Are you sure?" I asked tentatively. "We still don't know anything about the Illuminati crap that almost got you killed a week ago. Your shielding power is pretty subtle since the force fields are transparent and all, but there's still the chance you might be recognized. Plus you'll be outnumbered at least four to one in there, and there might be reinforcements waiting in the truck."

"I'm not going to stand by idly while there's a goddamned supervillain bank robbery down the street from our base, Val. Especially while Taylor's stuck inside. Wish me luck."

An engine conspicuously roared to life in the background, and Alex hung up on me before I could respond.

-o-

Katherine Gonzalez, a thirty seven year old reporter never thought that working in the media would be an interesting experience.

When she was much younger, she had the foolish notion that her skills as a reporter and sheer dedication to the job would have made her famous, but despite her greatest efforts at all things related to journalism, her career never really managed to kick off from the ground.

Her youth had passed, as did her enthusiasm for life, even if she didn't know it at the time.

Then the Golden Morning happened, followed by the high profile takedown of a major crime syndicate less than a year later.

Losing her aging parents to Scion had been a wakeup call for Katie. It had triggered a realization for her about the shortness and sanctity of life. She rode forward on her career again at a breakneck pace, taking risks by actively seeking out an exciting new topic relentlessly – "capes", something she hadn't done for nearly a decade.

Katie had covered the rise of superheroes and supervillains across the country diligently, and it had become a bit of an obsession as she watched society evolve and adapt to the Gifted in post-Scion society.

She had kept her ears to the ground, even to the point of monitoring police chatter channels 24/7. She'd chased down every lead that she could, and learned for a fact that most of the "Jumping Man" sightings had been in downtown Manhattan. Since then she'd mostly spent her days staying nearby with her crew waiting for any activity. When Death Ray had massacred the bookstore a week ago, she had been there on the scene before even the first police cruiser had arrived, and had narrowly lost the heroic vigilantes in the winding alleyway maze behind the bookstore.

For the third time in less than two weeks, she had caught a lucky break and found herself standing in front of a camera at the site of a major superpowered crime. Her crew had gotten to the scene early yet again, and there were only three squad cars present with sirens closing in.

"This is Katie Gonzalez, live at the scene of a chilling hostage situation currently unfolding at the First Chelsea Bank. Moments ago, a truck containing five alleged supervillains crashed into the bank behind us, erecting this…barrier you see now. It's difficult to say what-"

Suddenly, her earpiece, which had been tuned in on major police channels sputtered. A voice began to speak as all other chatter ceased.

 _"Attention all incoming NYPD units. My name is Guardian I am broadcasting this message to indicate my status as a friendly. My intelligence has confirmed the presence of the criminals Impulse and Phaser, as well as at least two other unknown superhuman accomplices. I have also identified a structural weakness at the back of the barrier, and I will be attempting to penetrate the perimeter from the south-eastern quadrant using my abilities. My primary objective will be to ensure the safety of the hostages, and my secondary objective will be to enable police access to the scene. Guardian out."_

Katie glanced around, and as clear as the day itself, there was a dark blue, armored figure weaving through street traffic on a Harley Davidson motorcycle.

His costume was very flashy, yet clearly designed for functionality. A Kevlar-like full black body suit covered his body, ending with fingerless navy blue metal gauntlets and shin guards. Guardian was built like a superhero straight out of the comic books, and definitely dressed for the part.

There was an intricate cyan shield plastered on both arms and his shoulder, and dark blue lines ran across the body suit giving texture to his costume. He had a pair of steel tonfas strapped across his back his back, a utility belt with an array of pouches, and a face-concealing, matching black and blue helmet.

Katie blinked in shock, before sanity found its course with her again.

"Oh my god. Zoom in on him. ZOOM IN ON HIM!" Katie shouted.

The motorcycle roared in triumph, Guardian skid around the corner through the police barricade despite protests and shouts of the police officers. He weaved around, and passed straight through the Green Barrier on his motorcycle, braking the vehicle into a falling spin. He followed up beautifully, somersaulting off the motorcycle and landing in a low, three point stance.

Before he even finished regaining his balance, he threw a disk at the emergency side door. With a pop, the door's locking mechanism snapped out of place, and the door hung limply on its hinges.

Guardian casually threw the lock behind him, and walked into the bank.

"Tell me you caught that, Steve" she stated.

"Every. Single. Moment" the cameraman replied, mouth agape.

Now THAT would definitely make national news.

Hopefully the city's newest costumed crusader would come out of this in one piece.

-o-

With the hostages and guards successfully pacified, I joined up with Enigma as we headed over to the sealed vault. Apophis watched over the room behind us as Phaser channeled a stream of red energy along the edges of the cast iron vault door.

After a tense two or three minutes, the vault creaked, and he blasted the vault dead on center, caving it inwards straight through the metal gate behind it.

He gestured to me, and I immediately began piling up the stacks of spare hundred dollar bills the bank kept on hand, along with whatever valuables I could see in the form of gold and silver bullion. Enigma calmly walked ahead of me, searching for the deposit box that contained the Don's valuables.

"We have company" Euclid's voice droned over the radio.

"What?" Phaser exclaimed.

"Some guy in a black and navy blue costume with a cape rode by the side of the building on some sort of motorcycle a minute ago. Readings indicate my shield was disrupted for approximately 737 milliseconds."

"So much for this being a milk run" I remarked. "Didn't you say your forcefield could take a hit from anything short of a cruise missile?"

"Only on a a technicality, Impulse. The forcefield is actually disrupted for a couple of milliseconds every time there's an external impact, imperceptible to the human eye. However, that's besides the point. He'll be on you in about thirty seconds, likely via the southeast stairwell exit. Get ready."

"Impulse, cover my rear. Apophis, get somewhere safe where you can monitor the battlefield" Phaser snapped at us.

He positioned himself in front of the rear exit door, hands held out and ready to fire. Apophis positioned herself behind a pillar, eyeing over the room warily.

The next thing I knew, the ceiling exploded.

Smoke and debris filled the air directly over Phaser, and a dark blur dropped down towards him. Phaser reacted instantly, firing a salvo of four energy bolts at him while trying to hop to the right.

The unknown assailant responded with adroit precision, twisting between the bolts as he fell. Dropping on the ground, he immediately threw out a low sweeping kick at Phaser, further unbalancing him. He followed up on the movement skillfully, spinning through the sweep and rising to catch Phaser's arm in a twisting motion with a large bundle of cloth.

 _Well, he was smart enough to take the cape off._

Phaser screamed as his shoulder was popped out of its socket joint, and I sprinted ahead as the blue figure stepped up into a powerful roundhouse kick aimed at Phaser's fully exposed ribs.

I caught his leg midway through the kick, saving Phaser from a painful, potentially incapacitating blow.

He hopped into the air, and it barely registered to my mind before I was sent flying through the air as he twisted his legs in a scissor motion.

 _He just tossed me with his fucking legs!_

I landed into a sideroll, and the sudden momentum shift activated the secondary effect of my power. I took that moment to regain my balance and stand up.

Taking a moment to look the figure over, I could see that he was covered in some sort of cutting edge body armor. There were openings along his joints, and the lower half of his face was exposed.

 _That throw was complete fucking bullshit if you ask me._

Fortunately my intervention had given Phaser a moment to regain his bearings. Phaser got up on one knee and launched a series of rapid fire bursts at our assailant, forcing him to dodge. The figure pivoted on one arm, and cartwheeled to the left side of the room, once again evading Phaser's attempts at hitting him.

A hellish synchronous rattle filled the air, and snakes from all across the room began to converge on his location.

This really wasn't an ideal way to start the battle off - It didn't take a genius to know Phaser's power was at a fraction of its effectiveness with only one arm to use.

Bracing myself, I reached into my pocket and drew my hunting knife. I closed in once again, using my running speed to my advantage. I flanked him as he rolled behind a pillar, and slashed down with my knife at his left hamstring.

I grunted in annoyance as my knife met resistance from the material covering his leg, and I quickly dashed out of the way as he threw a back kick at me.

Moving to his side again, I lashed out at the seams of his armor with a series of lightning fast stabs and slashes, nicking him a few times for my trouble but nothing decisive. He covered up with his gauntlets and I continued to run around him, occasionally striking out and searching for openings. I could sense the rattlesnakes moving in, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Phaser maneuvering behind him with a small red orb forming on his fingertips.

I stepped in again with my knife held in a reverse grip, when suddenly he pivoted on his rear leg and shoulder checked me. He yanked quickly at his belt, pulling up a small object that looked like a pen light.

Suddenly, my vision began to flash white, and I stumbled around blinded by whatever he did. I could make out my opponent grabbing for the tonfas on his back, which I REALLY didn't want to stick around for considering what I'd seen from him. I ran away, and blinked furiously as I dashed to the other side of the room, tripping over a snake slightly before finding my way across.

This guy was stupidly good, but there was nothing he could do about the swarm of snakes that had penned him in as I'd kept him busy. Apophis had a high degree of fine control over her minions, and the second he stepped on or tried to flip over the snakes he'd be swarmed and tied down by anything from copperheads to anacondas.

I took a moment to catch my breath and look around. Apophis had kept a token venomous snake or two on each the hostages, but we had been so caught up by the sudden attack we didn't react properly. I looked back across the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I noticed that the vigilante had been backed up against a wall.

Just then, Phaser finally walked up to line up a direct hit with a charged blast.

"Nighty night, shithead" he sneered, before firing a beam of red light at our opponent. The vigilante had no room to maneuver except towards the swarm of snakes closing in around him.

Or not.

 _You have GOT to be shitting me_.

The second Phaser fired his beam, the vigilante jumped at the wall and preformed a four step horizontal wall-run. He kicked off the wall behind another pillar, and it was back to square one again.

Alright, that was enough. If this guy was a hero type, then our hostages were being stupidly under-utilized.

I looked over at the nearest hostage - it was the mother and her son, who had their arms tied up by a king cobra and black mamba respectively. They were glancing around a pillar fearfully at the ongoing battle between my...companions, and the vigilante.

I sighed, fully realizing I was a scumbag for using a pregnant woman and a little kid as a hostage.

"Hey asshole" a voice suddenly spoke from behind me.

I turned to the voice, and screamed as a cloud of caustic material sprayed directly into my face. I clawed at it in agony as I was blinded for the second time in this battle.

 _How did Apophis let this happen?_

She had been pretty clear about her power allowing her to feel any movement and thermal signatures near her minions.

"There's karma, and then there's this shit. Fuck, all I wanted to do was check on my account balances."

Blinking back the pepper spray as best as I could, I saw the curly haired girl with the prosthetic arm holding the blurry outline of a thrashing rattlesnake by the tail. She dropped it disdainfully, and I could see her walking towards me through my blurry vision.

Despite being more or less incapacitated I still tried to run away only to feel a jerk between my legs as I tripped on something and fall jaw first on the ground. My vision spun with stars as I painfully squinted up at the girl walking towards me. She had her prosthetic arm in one hand, and was standing over me.

 _Well...Shit._

The girl raised the arm high up in the air, and slammed it down on my head.


	17. Turbulence 2-3

**Turbulence 2.3**

* * *

 **Taylor**

Fuck.

My day had been going wonderfully up until this point, so of course everything had to come crashing down around me in the single most ironic way possible.

Having afternoon tea with Alex in an upscale Chelsea teahouse had put me in a good mood, and the bonus he left in my bank account had put me in even higher spirits, although I really didn't think I deserved.

So I was justifiably pissed when I found myself in the middle of New York City's first coordinated supervillain bank robbery.

"Everybody on the ground!" Phaser shouted, firing off five simultaneous streaks of laser towards the ceiling.

I complied with Phaser's demand, kneeling on the ground in front of the ATMs with my hands up in the air as a pair of snakes coiled around my ankles. I was the only one using the ATMs, and I could see that the large bank lobby was sparsely populated, thankfully enough.

Another cape covered in a hooded cloak appeared next to Phaser with a shadowy blur, and began to give the standard 'This isn't a joke, don't be a hero' speech while the people around me trembled and cowered in fear.

I was really, _really_ peeved, and I scowled at the villains as Phaser walked up to the deposit area. Impulse met my death glare momentarily with a raised eyebrow, before looking away towards the heavy vault door as Phaser began to cut through it with his power.

There was nothing I could really do in this state, but I started to tap into my power anyway.

At the very least, I could give these two-bit villains a couple of mosquito bites for their trouble.

Using my power was a far cry from my early days, where I had actually been overwhelmed by the raw sensory data that came from the bugs around me.

If I wanted to use my power after Contessa had performed her haphazard surgery on me with a nine millimeter, I actually had to exert some mental effort to focus in on it. Although, sometimes it did activate briefly on its own without warning.

I hadn't actively used it since the incident at the bookstore, but it was definitely still there for me to utilize.

*THUMP*

Something was-

*THUMP*

*THUMP THUMP*

...

...

A massive headache blanketed my consciousness, and a hundred screaming voices roared to life around me.

...

...

...  
...

...

I grit my teeth and strained my eyes, regaining my focus over the course of a minute or two, and I was shocked to the core by what I felt.

In the early days of my retirement, I had fought desperately to regain control of my power in addition to my physical rehabilitation. At the end of it all, I had regained a tiny bit of my power through the natural healing process.

However, I couldn't do much more than make half a dozen flies dance to my tune, with a limited range of maybe thirty meters.

That had been an unchanging, unerring fact for the past six months.

Now, the connection to my power was _smoother,_ if that made any sense. It was maybe a hundredth of what I experienced as an active cape on Earth Bet, where using my power was as natural as breathing to me. It was fuzzy, but I could sense hundreds of mosquitoes, flies, spiders, cockroaches, and an assortment of other bugs around me.

I didn't understand how it was possible but my power had suddenly roared with an intensity I hadn't felt for what seemed like a lifetime.

If I had to be perfectly honest, I didn't know how to feel about that at all.

Still, that was a thought I had to save for later. I couldn't flood the room with insects and drown these two bit villains in it, but at the very least I could make this situation a little better.

I looked down by my ankles - a rattlesnake was coiled around each of my legs, head high in the air. I could feel the friction of their dry, scaly skin rubbing around the hems of my jeans. Not good.

I glanced up as a yellow blur I identified as Impulse zoomed around the room, and the cowled figure began to tap away at a computer.

As discreetly as I could manage, I began to pull the spiders hidden throughout the room to me. I struggled, finding out pretty quickly that if I disseminated my focus too much across the 'swarm', I'd start losing control of individual spiders and they'd begin to scatter.

After about five minutes, I had a haul of about three dozen house and cellar spiders at my call, with thirteen orb weavers in the bunch.

Against my better judgment, I experimentally dropped a pair of orb weavers from the ceiling overhead down on one of the snakes and had it secrete its webbing along the top of the snake's head.

There was no telling what sort of Master variation the cape with snakes for hair was. Could she sense what they could sense? Did she just order them around while they retained their natural instincts? In any case, a pair of spiders shouldn't raise any red flags.

I tried my best to remain calm as the spider did its work. Half a minute passed, and the snake displayed no reaction to the spider whatsoever. That was a good sign.

I had ten more spiders descend down and begin to cocoon the snake high up on its body, right below the head. There was very little pressure exerted on the snakes by the webbing, and the snakes continued to rest around my ankles, seemingly ignorant the cocoon that was slowly beginning to build up around their 'necks'.

The vault door fell down, and the snake Master stayed behind while the rest of the villains entered the vault. I switched my focus, commanding five nearby mosquitoes to fly over and start biting her.

I immediately lost control over the spiders I gathered around me, and the panicked arachnids began to scatter in different directions.

Dammit.

Retaining control over a good fifty spiders or so at point blank range was better than the half dozen 'simple' insects I was limited to before, but it really stung for me to realize that I was still crippled.

I stayed low, hiding behind the row of ATM machines that sat at the front of the lobby.

It took an average of twenty minutes for a single orb weaver to build a fully functional web. With nearly fifty spiders working around the snake, I could consolidate that down to a minute, and spin enough webbing to have the snakes tied up in two or three minutes.

Suddenly, Impulse and Phaser rushed out of the vault, and Phaser began to bark orders frantically. Phaser aimed his hands at a side exit door, and they waited.

I frowned at their reaction. It was likely they had a Thinker or Stranger for support somewhere, who alerted them as a police strike force arrived. Either that, or those electronic devices were used to seize control of the bank's surveillance system.

The next thing I knew, a solid chunk of stone fell out of the ceiling, and a cape dropped down in a good thirty foot drop directly over Phaser. The snake around my right ankle hissed, uncoiling from my ankles and rushing over to join the battle.

I crossed my fingers, hoping that the snake cape was sufficiently distracted, and began to have four dozen spiders focus on tying up the snake coiled around my ankle.

I could tell from the brief exchange between Phaser and the new cape that the vigilante was pretty damn talented. His smooth, efficient, but brutal movements reminded me of old footage of Crane the Harmonious the PRT kept for training videos.

He had the keen sense to go for the dangerous well-known blaster first instead of trying to ambush a speedster or a relative unknown like snake lady. The immediate injury he'd inflicted would also limit Phaser's firing rate and power output.

Not only that, he'd also immediately taken the fight to the confines of the side pillars after the villains recovered from the ambush, providing cover from Phaser and somewhat limiting Impulse's mobility. Unfortunately, the tight spaces would become a problem once the swarm of snakes finally reached him.

The snake coiled around my left ankle began to struggle, finally noticing the cocoon that was rapidly forming around its head. Without thinking twice, I slapped down with my prosthetic arm, hands first and pinned its head down as it lashed out viciously, sinking its fangs deep into the fake arm.

Okay, these definitely weren't natural snakes, they were probably just snake-based constructs created by the Passenger that was bound to the snake lady.

I was also probably going to have to get a new arm if that snake's fangs had anything resembling real rattlesnake venom in them.

 _Well, I'm free, now what?_

Looking over at the battle, I finally noticed the shield motif on the new cape. It was a familiar looking pattern, resembling a kite shield, or the same hunk of metal a certain barrel-chested upperclassman used to demonstrate his power to me.

...Alex?

The build and jawline definitely matched, but I couldn't be sure because I didn't see any overt uses of Alex's power. The cape's armor was clearly based on the heroes of this world's popular media.

I let the spiders finish their work sans fangs, taking care to wrap an extra layer of silk below the head, and stood up keeping pressure on the snake by shoving its head against the wall. I peaked around the corner as the combatants were pushed deeper into the bank.

A yellow and blue blur rushed over from around the room, and an exhausted looking Impulse leaned against the pillar around the corner, gasping for breath. I reacted immediately, sending half my mini-swarm out to the sides to create a tripwire and half out to coat his legs with residue and bite at him. If I couldn't take him out, I could at least slow him down a little for the vigilante cape.

He gasped, and wheezed, taking far longer to gather himself than I expected. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at a woman and a young boy who had not seen him zip around the corner. They were roughly thirty feet away from him, peaking around a pillar to look at the battle, and were seemingly unaware of the villain's presence.

The calculating look in his eyes told me all I needed to know. He was going to take them hostage, and I couldn't let that happen if there was any chance of foiling the bank robbery.

I stepped up around the corner, pulling around my can of pepper spray out as I did so.

"Hey asshole" I called out to him.

Impulse snapped his head around just as I timed my move and pushed down on the nozzle. He yelped in pain as he took a spray of capsaicin straight into the eyes.

He twisted around, and the layered makeshift tripwire I made did its work, causing him to fall face first on the ground.

I yanked the sufficiently cocooned rattlesnake off my right arm, suffocating rattlesnake off my right arm, tossing it across the room.

Then I took my prosthetic arm off, and slammed it down on Impulse's head before he could recover. I hit him again, and again, and again, until he could do nothing but moan in pain on the ground.

I stomped on his right ankle for good measure.

Without the pressure Impulse was exerting on maybe-Alex, he should be able to close the gap and take Phaser down.

Anyway, it couldn't hurt to lend him a hand if I saw an opening, but I'd have to take care to avoid the lines of sight of the snakes. There was no telling what extent of control the Master had over them, even after my little experiment.

-o-

 **Guardian**

Fuck.

The plan had been to attack Phaser immediately and take him out of the equation. Phaser was stupidly good at aiming his power, I'd seen him take down an entire platoon of SWAT with it at one point.

He was pretty easy to pick out from the group - I could pick that silver encrusted mask of his out of a crowd after my second encounter with him. So of course the first thing I did was literally drop on him and use my power to slow my fall into a sweeping combo.

Unfortunately, this was my first time encountering Impulse in a combat situation, and he interrupted my attempt at taking down Phaser efficiently.

So now, I was in a pretty precarious position. An untrained eye would have thought that I was making fools out of these guys, but the reality was that the fight was a lot closer than it appeared.

Even with limited use of my power, one mistake in dodging Phaser's weakened one-armed blasts and I was toast.

He was extremely riled up, and I was only dodging the way I had been because he telegraphed his projectiles from a mile away. Although they left a visible red streak in their wake, the projectiles were easily supersonic or lightspeed when he was trying.

There was also the problem of the unknown cape who was commanding the snakes, as well as the last hostile fiddling around inside the vault.

I sidestepped behind a pillar, dodging another ray of red. Now I had a chance to catch my breath before the snake swarm caught up with me again.

I still had my force-fields, but that had the same inherent problem as trying to dodge his shots. I couldn't afford to stay on the defensive, because the second they collected their wits and began using the hostages against me it was all over.

I was lucky Impulse had fallen on the other side of the room after tussling with a hostage. That gave me some room to actually work and turn the situation in my favor.

I used a pocket mirror to peer around the pillar, only to shout in alarm as a red streak of light struck it, shattering the glass and reflecting off the mirror to singe the ground.

I took a moment to check my utility belt - the high frequency strobe flashlight I had prepared for Impulse had worked beautifully, but I couldn't use the sonic equilibrium disruptor I had prepared weeks ago for Phaser.

There were simply too many civilians in the room, and I didn't want to risk rupturing their eardrums. That left me with one option.

Reaching into my belt, I pulled out a breathing mask and palmed a smoke grenade.

 _"Guardian you better not be about to do what I think you're about to do_ " Dagger chastised me flatly. _"You haven't practiced that trick enough to make it foolproof in a live situation_."

"Sorry, but I don't think I have any other way of closing the distance. Going to have to wing this - trial by fire and all that."

I dropped my mirror and the smoke bomb and dove out towards the wall from the opposite side of the pillar.

Anchoring myself to the side with my power, I hopped along the wall for a two-step and jumped off it as Phaser shot blindly into the smoke at my silhouette.

Thirty four meters.

I dived into a roll, spinning my tonfas up in an X-shape while I tapped my power. Timing my power with the rotation of the tonfa, I worked to pull out a series layered circle shaped force-fields out in front of me.

The transparent forcefield I drew with my forward facing left arm glowed red, and dissipated.

Phaser reacted with surprise, but still had the mind to hop back a few steps.

 _"Holy shit you did it!"_

It worked but it definitely wasn't time to celebrate yet.

Fifteen meters.

He took a firmer stance this time and charged his attack. Phaser's blast was huge this time, easily two or three feet wide in diameter unlike the usual streaks he would fire like a semiautomatic pistol.

I repeated the movement with my tonfas, layering the two forcefields again. Unfortunately the pattern I drew was a little sloppier on this draw.

My forcefields glowed red, and this time, they shattered and I felt a sharp pain as the blast impacted on my left arm. I grit my teeth as the force and heat of the projectile slammed into my tonfa, which snapped back and flew across the room.

I turned with the momentum and jumped at him, accelerating my movement with my power as he raised his single palm again.

This was going to be close - even if I read his blast perfectly and caught it with my shield, I'd still have to neutralize him in hand to hand with one arm. My left arm was numb from the hit it had taken and it wouldn't be fully functional.

If this shot was as powerful as the first one, it'd punch right through my shield and hit me in my other arm. I'd have to take him out using my legs in that case.

"DIE!" he screamed, aiming the glowing orb on his fingertips at me as I was two steps from striking range.

Suddenly, a metal object came spinning out of the air, catching him by the elbow. His arm bent inwards and back, causing him to misfire and graze my shield. The red beam shot up and incinerated the projectile that struck his arm. I caught a glimpse of the object and my eyes widened in surprise.

I turned up from my crouched sprinting position, striking up with the long end of the tonfa. I winced a little as it cracked on the back of his left knee, and Phaser fell on it, screaming in pain. Following up with the momentum, I twisted into a torso level spinning hook kick , which struck him square on the jaw.

Phaser wobbled next me for a second, then fell. He'd been out cold before he even hit the ground.

I turned to the left to see Taylor, huffing in all her armless glory.

"Well... that was one for the playbook. Thanks for the hand."

I flashed her a knowing smile and a thumbs up. I really had to work on changing my voice when I was out in costume.

"No problem" she said, returning the gesture. "You have some pretty impressive moves yourself."

Her eyes narrowed, darting behind me.

"But save that for later, we have to move."

 _*Hissss*_

I looked behind me to see the snake swarm approaching, and I tensed up, ready to scoop up Taylor and reposition.

Suddenly, I felt a tightness in my chest, and the air pressure behind me shifted, causing me to turn around with my guard up. The cloaked figure had appeared behind me with a shadowy afterimage. She was carrying a burlap sack that was packed to the brim, and I could see the head of a singed teddy bear poking out of the bag.

Her back was turned to me, and she gently nudged the unconscious Phaser with her foot before 'tsk'ing in annoyance.

"Man, you guys have really made a mess of things here, didn't you?" she sighed, her voice distorted by what sounded like a modulator

She turned to look at me, and recoiled in shock before composing herself.

"Well damn. If it isn't Guardian and Weaver in the flesh. Guess that explains it."

I clenched my teeth, there was no way in hell she already knew my name, considering I had only dropped it on a hacked and immediately quantum encrypted channel.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Taylor had also tensed up in shock.

 _Weaver? I'll file that away for later._

"Are we doing this the easy way, or the hard way?" I challenged, stepping forward at her with my shoulders raised. "The police are going to be on us in a minute, and half your team has gone down."

She stared straight at me and...yawned?

"Meh, I can take both of you" she said with a shrug. "You can call me Enigma, by the way. Care for some biscuits?"

I felt the strange pressure fall on my chest again, and a box of biscuits suddenly appeared in her hand.

"I'm not here for pleasantries, Enigma" I replied, frowning in response.

"Oh don't be such a spoilsport, just give me a second."

She took off her cowl with one hand and loosened her cloak, revealing the costume underneath. It was skintight - green with bands of black across the chest and down the sides of her arms, legs, and body. An image of a stylized question mark sat at the center of her chest.

"T-that costume!" Taylor croaked out. "Why...how..."

"It's way too early for us to be doing this dance and I didn't account for an encounter this soon, but I can work off it" she stated, brushing us off again.

She clicked a ring on her finger, and I felt my chest clench up again.

Then the world… shifted.

One moment she was standing there with the burlap sack on her shoulder, then the sack was on the ground and Enigma had two pistols drawn, one aimed at me and one aimed at Taylor.

I reflexively threw a forcefield up in front of both her guns, but they were haphazardly made, and the bullets punched right through.

I grunted, bending over as the bullet impacted on my armor, causing the liquid beneath to harden.

She turned the other gun to me and fired again, and again, aiming at the weak seams of my armor nicked by Impulse and drawing blood.

I felt the tension of her power at work again and two things happened at once.

Enigma vanished, as did the snakes and Phaser. Impulse had somehow disappeared from his corner too.

Taylor fell to the ground in a spurt of blood.

"NO!" I shouted, already starting to run over to her.

A moment later, the front of the building exploded, as did each and every one of the devices Impulse had planted along the walls.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I am an evil bastard.

Please be gentle.


	18. Turbulence 2-4

Disclaimer: I do not own Worm, I AM planning on writing original, epic fiction to try and match it soon, though. Just as soon as I finish polishing my skills with fanfic.

* * *

What is a superhero?

No.

Perhaps the better question to ask is: What makes a hero a superhero?

Fighting skills? Powers? Flight, super strength, and invincibility? Was that what made someone a superhero?

Was it how he looked? Was a man in plain clothes somehow less heroic than someone in a cape and costume?

Maybe it was something simple, like Good overcoming Evil.

If that were the case, what happens when 'Good' loses? Would they still be heroes? Were heroes just the triumphant victors, or something else entirely? How did you even determine who was 'Good' in the first place?

But enough about that, I'm just being silly.

 _The girl stared at me, teary eyed, her body was covered in bruises and dirt from being shoved and kicked by the other children._

 _I lent her my hand with a grin, sporting ample cuts and bruises of my own. The first of many I would accumulate from the boys over the years._

That had been one of my most vivid early memories.

Sometimes, deep down inside, I would wonder if making the decision to get involved was a smart move.

In retrospect, there was no decision to be made, back then.

 _She grabbed my hand._

It was just something that couldn't be helped.

 _"My name is Alexander, but you can call me Alex" I said gently as I pulled her up._

The look of hope in her eyes had been worth every cut and bruise.

 _"Everything will be alright now, for I am here!"_ _I shouted with a cheesy fist pump._

It was difficult to define what a superhero was in a strict sense.

But if it was still something like that...

I guess being called a superhero couldn't be all that bad.

* * *

Small, highly concentrated explosions rocked the room, knocking me off my feet as I lunged towards Taylor.

I grunted as I took the fall, landing in an awkward forward roll. Taylor on the other hand, fell back on the ground with an expression of pure shock across her face as blood gushed out messily from the side of her neck.

I reacted quickly - half sprinting and half crawling over to her as the explosions ran up towards the back of the room. The bullet had grazed her throat, and she'd be critical in well under a minute.

Kneeling over her protectively, I placed my remaining tonfa next to her before drawing a thin forcefield around the wound, stemming the flow of blood as well as I could.

"Come on, stay with me... I'm sorry this happened to you, all because I was too weak and needed you to help me at the end"

I composed myself, trying and admittedly failing to keep calm as flames roared to life around the room. The earth erupted in front of the bank's entrance, causing the glass to explode inwards.

The people around us screamed and panicked, scrambling to try and find a way out as a wall of fire rose up along the edge of the room.

What the fuck happened back there? Usually Dagger would warn me if there was any danger I couldn't see myself, but she'd been completely silent the entire time.

"Dagger, are you there?"

My earpiece was totally silent. There wasn't even a crackle of static in response to my static.

Dammit.

Reaching down into my utility belt, I pulled a tube of Solaris's prototype hemostatic gel, carefully squeezing the material into Taylor's wound.

The gel was a local biomedical invention four years in the making, and it was truly a miracle of modern medicine.

It would artificially accelerate the hemostatic process and stem the bleeding, before fully settling in over the course of three minutes. She'd probably scar, but the gel would hopefully keep her stable until I could get her to a hospital. Unfortunately, I would obviously have to move her, and there was no guarantee the gel would hold.

I would definitely have to thank Akash for hooking me up with prototype samples later though.

"Why...costume..." she croaked, coughing up and spitting out a mouthful of blood.

She was choking on her own blood and it looked like she was about to pass out.

"Don't try to talk, you're going into shock" I grasped her hands, doing my best to comfort her. "I'm here with you, you hear me? You're going to make it, and I'm going to get you out of here."

I wasn't sure if I was trying to reassure her, or myself, to be quite honest.

No sooner did the words come out of my mouth when another chain of explosions rang off inside of the open vault door.

Well fuck.

I pushed on my power, reaching out to all sources of metal I could sense, and the secondary effect of my power activated automatically, filling my vision. Clusters of metal began to glow with a bright 'light', and white lines extended in a gradient, visually showing me where the greatest concentrations of my power would be.

I drew upon the cluster near the cast iron door to form a forcefield around the vault entrance - rather than an invisible, wall of force, the forcefield I created shone like a lit beacon to me as I shaped it to absorb the shock wave.

The forcefield rippled as the wave collided against it, but it held steady against the explosion.

Using the mental trigger helped me create forcefields with greater accuracy and speed than the passive, vanilla metal sense did, but the brightness was overwhelming for my concentration. I avoided using it if I could, unless I was in a situation where I could fully focus on using my forcefields to defend. Situations like back in the bookstore with Death Ray, or while trapped in a burning building like the one I was in right now.

I huffed in exhaustion, and sweat dripped down my forehead as the temperature in the building rapidly increased.

We were lucky that the explosive yields of the devices were relatively low, and they were clearly meant for incendiary purposes. The bank robbers had probably used some sort of thermite derivative for this 'finale'.

Moving my hands up to my visor, I detached it from my hood and mask. I scrutinized it carefully - there was no external damage whatsoever. I had thought for a second that Phaser might have gotten a lucky hit in on it, but the visor was completely unblemished.

I looked over to Taylor's prone body, and I stopped, blinking in confusion.

Taylor was glowing in a slow, steady rhythm, and my metal sense started to vibrate in sync with it. The sensation was similar to my metal sense, but unlike the clusters of bright white metal I'd become accustomed to, she was...resonating in a dull blue.

Oh come on. Now what?

I stopped using my power, and she stopped glowing.

Then I activated my power again.

Taylor was definitely still glowing blue.

I stepped closer, and stopped as I noticed something that looked like a thin string twisting and curling as I walked up to her.

I narrowed my eyes, tracing the line and began following it up. What I saw was quite a bit of a shock.

The line looped up and around my body, and attached into the top of my head. In addition to that, I could see three more lines extending out through the bank's burning walls, all leading towards my body.

Alright, this was just a little bit creepy.

I raised one hand to touch the thread and my hand passed straight through the thread.

Hmm.

The blue line around Taylor had the same general sensation as the clusters of metal I used for my power. If I could envelop Taylor in a forcefield, paving a way out for the hostages would be all that much easier with some peace of mind.

I activated my power, and pulled on the aura while visualizing a bubble around Taylor.

The very moment I started to pull on the aura, the world around me faded to black and I found myself standing in the middle of a bright white hallway.

The hallway was set against a pitch black backdrop, and the void seemed to stretch out around infinitely.

There was a spooky looking wooden door at the end at the end of the hallway, which I eyed for a second with apprehension. However, my curiosity ended up getting the better of me.

I walked up to the door, and pushed it open.

-o-

I found myself standing on a rooftop, and the air around me was filled with a thick, misty sort of haze.

The rooftop was barren, with visible scorch marks all over the ground, and the fog extended out all around me, blocking my vision. I could make out the outline of a small city in the background, but there wasn't much I could see with all the fog in the air.

 _"Greetings"_ a feminine voice echoed behind me.

I spun around, jumping back into a fighting stance even as I turned. There was a shadowy silhouette of a person standing at the edge of the rooftop, and I tensed as it began to move towards me.

"Who are you?" I shouted into the fog.

The figure stopped for a second, as if considering if it would answer my question. Then, she stepped forward out of the fog into my view.

The person standing in front of me was clearly female, and stood at around five feet six inches tall.

She wore a black and grey bodysuit with armor panels, which seemed to be made out of some chitinous material. Her mask was insectoid in design with grooves that ended mandibles around the mouth and yellow lenses covering her eyes. Her curly hair flowed out behind her in a way that reminded me of Taylor's.

The most noteworthy feature was that she was immaterial - her entire body was transparent, and she seemed to shimmer like a hologram every couple of seconds.

 _"In a strange, twisted sense, I am Taylor Hebert. At the same time, I am also the furthest thing possible from her."_

"Where am I?" I asked her.

 _"Now...that, that is an interest-"_

She shimmered out, only to re-appear a second later.  
 _  
"-ing question, and I'm going to have to get back to that one in a min-"_

Again.  
 _  
"-ute._ _"_

"So, you're Taylor, but you're the furthest thing possible from her?" I said, quirking up an eyebrow in response.

 _"We are not the same conscious being, but I wore Taylor as a mask just as she had worn me, at times. You could consider me an aspect of Taylor Hebert, nonetheless."_

"Is it an unwritten rule that mysterious, shadowy ghostly dream figures have to be as cryptic as possible? Better question, how did I even get here, Not-Taylor? Mind if I call you that?"

I was quickly getting exasperated with how this conversation was going, and I could get the sense that she was smiling through the bug mask.

 _"You seem to have found yourself host to Preservation, one born to preserve, manipulate, and maintain dimensional and physical integrity. It is a rare occurrence for a personality to be imprinted as wholly and deeply as Taylor's has with me, so when you drew upon your link with Taylor, I was pulled from the realm of my dormancy to commune with you. This is merely an abstract representation you can comprehend, born from an echo of Taylor's past."_

"Preservation? My link with Taylor?"

I had so many questions, and each answer she provided seemed to spawn a dozen more.

 _"You have many questions, but I cannot answer them right now. Time is slowed here, but it has not stopped. Both you and Taylor are all in immediate danger, and you must leave. Still, I won't look a gift horse in the mouth._ _"_

The ghostly figure walked up to stand face to face with me, shimmering again as she moved.

 _"Preservation has repaired much of the damage Taylor has suffered in recent years, damage that would no doubt cripple her quality of life in later age. Your presence also is the reason that I can help Taylor again, albeit faintly, and for that that I am thankful."_

"No sweat?" I half stated as even more questions began to pile up in my mind.

 _"Unfortunately, I must sever the connection, as much it pains me to do so. Taylor needs more time for her mind to heal, which can only occur with the passage of time. I will allow Preservation to do its work until Taylor is stable from her most recent injury, at the very least."_

She suddenly turned corporeal, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck as she placed her head against my chest.

"Please take care of Taylor for me."

Not-Taylor shimmered once again, and disintegrated into motes of light.

-o-

The rooftop lit up in an orange glow, and suddenly I found myself standing across the roof from a creature that was eight foot tall, tattooed, and half man half dragon. The fog lifted in a gust of wind, and the city burst into flames around me.

The dragon man reared back, and roared as fire spewed forth from its mouth towards me. I hopped to the side as the flames fanned out, and gained my footing on the corner of the rooftop.

I stood fast, taking a step back in apprehension.

"Look, I don't know what the hell gives, throwing you at me after giving me that whole speech about running out of time. But I have more important things to do than tussle with an overgrown lizard, so could we just settle this nicely please?"

The dragon roared and charged at me with his right claw raised. He was a walking beacon for my power, so I formed a forcefield directly in front of him off one side. He collided with the invisible forcefield, causing him to twist involuntarily and shift all his weight to the right side.

I slid under him, using my power to increase my speed, and I immediately pulled the other way with my power to stop my momentum. I jumped up, moving the same way he telegraphed his swing and yanked at his arm while pulling in the direction of his swing with my power.

I was about to toss him off the building when the rooftop faded away, and I found myself back in the bank, still surrounded by fire.

One of the pillars had collapsed, and I was standing in front of it with a shield raised. The forcefield was curved in a shape similar to the one I had used on the dragon, and it also had chunks of the crumbling ceiling collected on it. I had a sobbing woman draped over my shoulder at the same spot where I was about to grab the dragon.

 _What._

I created a sloping forcefield below the one I had made before, and dismissed the one currently supporting the pillar. The pillar turned, and crashed onto the ground with a thud. I redirected the chunk of the ceiling that fell in with a similar tactic.

I turned around to look at the woman - a brunette bank teller around my age, who was crying and coughing on the ground.

I took off my re-breather, hacking out a cough as smoke began to fill my lungs, before bending down and putting the mask on her face. She breathed into it deeply, and I took that moment to survey the room.

The people in the room had mostly clustered together into groups and were desperately scrambling away from the flames from the edge of the room, which steadily grew in size and intensity.

Less than half a minute had passed in my interaction with Not-Taylor but the flames had rapidly spread to envelop the paths to all the exits.

I checked on Taylor to make sure the gel had set enough to move her, before making my move to get the civilians under control.

"CIVILIANS!" I yelled as loudly with my best 'Silver Age' voice to get their attention.

I stood up in my best heroic pose, jumping into a somersault on top of that pillar.

"Everything will be fine now! Hope is here with you!"

I activated my power with as large of a grin for the crowd as I could. Then I fanned out as many shields as I could maintain, creating an open path to the front door.

"For I, the Guardian of New York, am here! Stand behind me, and I shall carve a path out through this inferno!"

I threw up a shield, swatting a piece of the crumbling ceiling away from the crowd.

Dear god that was cheesy, but it definitely did the job.

They looked at each other in hesitation, and rallied up in a group behind me as I hopped off the pillar

I walked over to Taylor, picking her up bridal style, taking care to minimize any pressure on her neck. I began to walk towards the path I had created with my shields.

I looked outside through the remains of the revolving door. The entire entrance was buried in debris, which was honestly no problem for my power set. I didn't bother with any showmanship, and I summoned a force bubble through the debris, forcefully ripping apart the wall of concrete in front of me like I was carving into a steak. I threw up a second shield in front of me to keep the dust out of everyone's faces, then, I continued to expand the bubble in my cone of vision.

In seconds, I had created a wide path for everyone to get out with a faint pop that was drowned out by the chatter and sirens outside. I dismissed the shield in front of us, and parted the dust cloud in front of us to the side.

I layered an extra few forcefields upwards so that there wouldn't be any nasty surprises with the load above us, and turned around.

"Alright everyone! I've cleared the path forward, but watch your step! The ground below us is shaky and might cave if you run too fast."

That was a bold faced lie, but hopefully the bit of doubt I'd instilled would keep them from trampling over each other.

I calmly strode forwards with Taylor in arms as the civilians flowed out around me.

It seemed like the truck the bank robbers had used to get into the bank had _imploded_ , by the looks of the ball of metal and crater where it once sat.

Whatever had caused the implosion, it had caused a good chunk of the concrete below to erupt upwards with it, collapsing the front of the building over the entrance. There were a few police vehicles and ambulances that had been overturned into the crater, and I could see a pair of EMTs carrying a man in a SWAT uniform with an injured head away on a stretcher.

If I had to guess, the police had attempted a raid as soon as the robbers' shield had gone down, and barely got a few steps in before the device activated. With the way everything was arranged, it looked like they were simply flung into the air by the air pressure and had taken various painful, but overall non-life threatening injuries.

I had lost a custom made tonfa and possibly a bike I had poured my heart and soul into tweaking. I could still barely feel my left arm, and my brand new armor ripped was ripped on the shoulderpad. I had dozens of nicks and scratches on my body that I was only starting to feel as the adrenaline began to wear off. I was covered in soot and dust, which I was going to be coughing up for days.

But in spite of all that, I continued forward with a grin and posture that never faded or diminished.

More for the sake of the people around me than anything else.

-o-

Tyreese Russell stood sternly in front of the room sized LCD screen, gently puffing on a cigar.

On the screen, a figure wearing a full suit of black and blue armor stepped out of the building. He walked out steadily, surrounded by a crowd of people as the building behind him was consumed by the fire.

 _"HAHA! Fear not, citizens! Hope has arrived!"_

He was covered in obvious signs of battle, with a torn shoulderpad and cuts and singes all over his armor. The figure was also carrying the limp form of a girl in his arms.

Even with a dark blue, borderline black hooded mask and a visor covering most of his face, he looked like a man who had just been through hell.

Yet, his back stood straight and proud, with a shining smile that never left his face.

The figure held a quality that angered Tyreese to no end, although he could not place his finger on it. It was all too familiar to him - the same gait, the same posture, the voice that spoke of a meddlesome fool who did not know to let sleeping dogs lie.

Tyreese angrily snuffed out the Gurkha Black Dragon on his gray suit.

"It seems that reports of his death have been profoundly exaggerated" he muttered.

He felt a telltale change in the pressure of the room, and he began to light another cigar.

"He's been be quite the thorn in your side, hasn't he?" A voice spoke next to him.

"Enigma" he replied, continuing to stare at the screen as the cameraman followed the now anointed 'Guardian' as he laughed heartily on screen, leaving the unconscious girl with the ambulance.

"Sorry Mister Russell" she said with a curtsy, "He showed up out of nowhere and the entire operation went to hell. We ended up getting the goods you wanted though. I trust you will honor your agreement with the crew, nonetheless?"

She had a burlap sack in hand, which she opened up, revealing a scorched teddy bear and an assortment of hand-carved figurines and faded photos.

"Of course," he said, turning to Enigma, who was nearly a foot shorter than him and half his weight, despite being tall for a woman. "I wouldn't have survived in this world as long as I have if I wasn't a man of my word."

And he had, being the sole founder of the original gang to have lived into his fifties, and the one responsible for building a ragtag street gang into an empire that could contend with the city's Old Guard.

"Great, I'll let them know once they wake up from the concussions Guardian gave them. In the meantime, I wish you a productive afternoon, boss."

"Please do. Also, be a dear pass and down a message to Enrico. The bounty on Noble has been claimed, and he is to open a price on Guardian twice the sum of Noble's."

Tyreese turned, walking back to his desk with the sack. He set it down, and switching on the surveillance camera he had installed in his office.

Opening the sack to the full view of the lighter, he flicked his lighter, and calmly dropped it directly onto the bag, gently puffing on his cigar while the contents of the bag burned.

He would send the footage directly to the Don in a few hours. The day would have been perfect, if it had not been for Guardian forcing his gadgeteers to detonate the charges early with hostages still in the room, injuring his hired hands, and costing them a hefty bonus.

Now the feds would be forced to formally investigate the incident, if just for appearance's sake. It would cost him significantly to bribe them off this time around if they discovered his involvement.

If a certain, prolific snitch managed to discover the link between him and the supervillains before he got to his contacts, things could become quite ugly. The infamous hacker was starting to become an urban legend in the underworld, and as of yet none of the major players had an answer to the mysterious cyber sleuth who managed to break into each and every online security measure the various groups had thrown up, to the point where he was stumbling into operations planned the day of a heist and forwarding it to the police. It was a small portion of the activities that actually went on in the city's organized crime network, but it was definitely disruptive and eating into profits and manpower.

He would also have to make up the sum of losses out of his own funds to keep his pet supervillains happy and prop up their morale.

"I bid you a good day, Enigma" he said, flicking the surveillance camera off while slowly walking over to the fire extinguisher.

He would have to do something to make any aspiring heroes think twice about following the precedent set today.

Of course, there would be no better choice for someone to be made an example out of, but Guardian and his obnoxious grin.

Unbeknownst to the crime lord however, the woman who stood behind him couldn't help but stare at the television screen with a grin of her own.

One that could only be described as a smile of pure triumph.

* * *

A/N: Vetigel is an actual invention by Suneris, a biotech start-up based in New York City. It's pretty cool.

A special thanks to WantonConstruct for betaing Arc 2, as always.


	19. Interlude - Orianna

Large leather chairs surrounded a large oak table, each seating an executive board member fitted with perfectly tailored suits, primarily men. There was a rose or two amongst the thorns, but they were anything but sweet.

The room was as cold as the Alaskan tundra in January, but that was more from the mood set by her peers than anything.

Orianna Castillo stood in the doorway. The armpits of her business suit were damp in spite of the overwhelming air conditioning, something that was rare for her. Today however, she was currently sweating like a Marxist at a gun show in Texas.

Smooth, spotless glass lined the room, and the northwest window granted a perfect view of the glistening Hudson River. Even under duress, the familiar sight took Orianna's breath away. She imagined running at the windows and jumping through it— and to the street below. She could stumble and float down the river and disappear. The only thing stopping her was that she wouldn't get the benefit of seeing their faces.

A small smile inadvertently curled onto her lips at the fantasy, before her mask of stoicism re-asserted itself.

Across from the windows, three large LCD screens were hung specifically for this meeting. Sokolovsky and Giordano telecast in from some other continent— prioritizing on-site meetings for companies that weren't in a complete management catastrophe. They were professional board members and administrators, pulling in numbers well into the high five to low six figures for each seat they held.

Zhao Si Kai, the head of the Chinatown Merchant's association dialed in from his home in Huntington, Long Island.

Orianna feared Zhao the most. Frederich von Neumann, the current chairman, argued that his inclusion was advisory, mentioning something about opening new markets in Hong Kong and Singapore. Orianna thought otherwise - long suspecting ulterior motives less helpful to the company.

Two weeks before her father's grisly death, the Maltese Falcon Holding Group had gone through a takeover. It could hardly be called a hostile one though. Johnathan Castillo, her father, had rolled over, and given it to them with nary a word.

He ceded majority control to Neumann and the rest of the board, retaining his position as CEO, but ultimately leaving the company's fate in the board's hands. A board that now sought to slowly but surely dissolve the company and liquidate its asset, against Orianna's wishes. Orianna had been a mid level executive, who suddenly found herself inheriting a stake equivalent to a third of the company from her father after he had been killed.

It didn't help that her biggest supporters on the board had also been found dead, slaughtered in the same locked-room murder mystery that had killed her father the previous month.

-o-

"Always feels weird out here, huh Ori?" her father asked.

Ori gazed out from the window of the passenger seat, staring at the cozy brownstone townhouses that lined the streets of the Upper East Side. She knew the sight by heart now - this was the route that her family had always taken driving her to ballet class. Ori despised this neighborhood and everything they represented, but it was the way to the prestigious School of American Ballet, across Central Park at Lincoln Center. No matter how terrible the twelve-year-old Orianna Castillo was, she still received the best.

They drove by a woman in a color-coordinated sun dress, pushing a jade-green stroller along the sidewalk. The woman had put more thought in her dress than most yuppies on Wall Street ever would. She even had matching headphones plugged into her top-of-the line MP3 player, and her wedding ring glistened in the glare of the summer sun.

Jonathan Castillo shook his head.

"New money," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"New York is filling up with new money. That girl we passed is part of it. Her husband probably works at one of those Dotcom companies."

Ori looked at her father quizzically. Her father often spoke like this to Ori, about work, about the world, about this senator or that governor, but she rarely understood what her father was saying.

"Our family...we're old money now," he said. "Money isn't the point though, it only goes so far. You see, new money doesn't typically care about the city, about the world, about building a legacy. It only cares about making more."

"Why are you talking about money, Daddy?"

Her dad smiled.

Without taking his eyes off the road, he responded, "I'm not really talking about money when I'm talking with you about all this, sweetie. Your grandfather spent his life building something bigger than us. We built this city, you know? The people would never understand."

He swept his eyes across the row of townhouses.

"We built this city?" Ori stared at him, eyes wide.

Her father laughed,

"Almost literally, actually. You see, your great grandfather built a legacy, of sorts. His efforts made the city great, made the city thrive."

Ori simply stared at her father quizzically.

"He slogged through the discrimination, and built out what meager of a life he could, until he prospered. Then your grandfather did the same - he grit his teeth and pushed through all the sweat and tears, even blood at times. He raised me through the cocaine epidemic and built a small empire, in the very industries that this city thrives on, continuing what my gramps basically started. Dad successfully sent me off to Dartmouth, and nowadays, you and I both have something better. A brighter tomorrow so to speak."

He fell silent as they descended down the Transverse road that cut across Central Park.

"New York fell apart around the years you were born Ori, you know that? She was barely limping on as you grew up. She'll thrive now though, your grandfather left that to me."

"New York City was his legacy, and someday, it will be yours."

-o-

"Are we clear, Miss Castillo?" Neumann stated.

"I think, that this is a tragedy and a mistake, _Fred_ " Orianna replied, biting her lip with contempt. "Did you say you were going to sell off all our casinos in Atlantic City? _Profitable_ casinos no less?"

 _You are complete, and utter scum for taking advantage of my father's death like this._ _  
_

"What is on the table, von Neumann?

Orianna turned her eyes to look at the man who had spoken - Zhao, the elderly Asian man had his hands crossed in deep thought, miles away on the LCD screen.

Neumann glanced at a legal pad and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Janus International is interested thanks to you" von Neumann replied neutrally. "They might not be willing to match our terms exactly, but if we toy with them a bit, they'll bite."

Ori's fingers clenched on her knee, scuffing her perfectly manicured nails.

"You're not doing this" Ori growled, "You're not hawking our assets like a set of used golf clubs."

Neumann laughed, "It's not your company anymore, Castillo, and we have a responsibility to the shareholders."

"The shareholders?" Ori bristled, "You don't give a flying fuck about them and you know it Fred. The only thing you care about is your OWN bottom line! My father, his father, and his father before him BUILT the city you see today. We are critical in construction, waste management, shipping, and local produce on top of a whole slew of other industries! The city needs this business. Please, give me time."

A resounding murmur rippled through the room in response. Several of the board members had been with the company since the days her grandfather had formally established Maltese Holding Group in its current form, and had known Ori since she was a child. She knew they agreed with her, but whether or not they'd confront von Neumann was a completely different story.

"For our next move, the fishing fleets of Tristate Marine will pass to Rosefleet under Mister Bozzelli's management, while you retain all existing rights in transport and shipping. All casinos in Atlantic city will be liquidated and shuttered, and we will be able to utilize the liquid cash generated to sustain operations. I needn't remind anyone here that the chain of tragedies last month has left us quite short on capable management."

Not only had key figures in the company been gunned down in the casino, but there were also numerous suspicious 'accidents' that occurred in the following week. Everything reeked of an organized hit from one of the company's countless enemies to Ori, but that was becoming a normality in the business world.

Suddenly, Bozzelli stood up.

"I understand that the company has fallen into a crisis, of sorts" Bozzelli announced, "However, I do believe that young Orianna deserves a chance to prove her abilities. The board has in fact discussed the matter earlier, and I think it would be prudent to review my proposal again."

Neumann's stoicism broke for the first time in the meeting, and he coughed.

"One quarter" von Neumann stated, removing his glasses and placing them on the table. "The board has discussed this, and we decided to give you eight months to turn the company around. We want results, Ms. Castillo, or Mr. Zhao will continue to broker the deal."

Orianna nodded, arms crossed. It was a farce, but she had to thank the kindly Mister Bozzelli for trying.

She turned to leave the boardroom, slamming the door hard enough to rattle it on its frame.


	20. Turbulence 2-5

**Disclaimer:** As per usual, I do not own Worm, Worm belongs to Wildbow. Wildbow is awesome.

A/N: Still not really satisfied with the last scene. I might end up rewriting it, but I just want to be done with this chapter. I've kept you all waiting long enough :P.

* * *

 _Brockton Bay was in flames._

 _I stood, staring aghast as a tidal wave crashed into the Protectorate headquarters and dragged it into the cold, icy depths. The people around me screamed in panic as buildings crumbled and concrete fell, burying them alive._

 _I was powerless, so I did the only thing I could._

 _I ran._

 _I ran, and I ran._

 _Eventually I stumbled, landing on something squishy and soft. I fumbled around blindly, pulling myself up to a kneeling position and froze in shock - I had fallen on a corpse._

 _The corpse of Imp, to be precise, with her mask shattered in pieces beside her. Her skull had been split open, with her eyes were rolled back, and the upper half of her face was in an advanced state of decomposition._

 _I scrambled up to my feet, my heart pounding in fear, and suddenly the scenery shifted._

 _All I could see were hundreds of capes strewn across the street in a massive, grisly killing ground. Many of the capes were recognizable to me, and my stomach lurched with each familiar costume I passed as I continued to walk forward._

 _Kid Win was sprawled on the ground without the lower half of his body, Tecton hung from a lamp post with his eyes gouged out, and a headless Clockblocker nailed to a building were just a couple of the capes I passed. The bodies continued to pile up as I walked over the corpses strewn across the burning street. Eventually, I arrived at the end of the street, and my heart stopped._

 _Guardian was slouched over, half-standing in the corner of the alleyway, his face frozen in a snarl of defiance. He had a gaping bloody hole where his ribcage would be, and he was holding onto a nanothorn spear that continued to carve into the ground. He was standing protectively over another body, which was hidden in the shadows, slumped against the wall._  
 _  
"You really can't save anyone, can you?" a woman's voice croaked from behind Guardian. It was a voice that I was very familiar with._

 _Hearing the sound of her voice struck at me down to my core._

 _The person in the shadows stood up, and slowly walked forward, and I felt the grip of despair as her identity was revealed against the dim backdrop of the dancing flames._

 _Tattletale stepped forth from the shadows, and I took two steps back in shock as she approached me. The upper half of her head was missing down a diagonal line, leaving a mixture of brain matter, blood, and mucus where her head once was. She flashed her trademark vulpine smile at me._

 _No, it wasn't her smile, the mischievous foxy smirk I'd grown to truly love, despite how unbelievably insufferable it could be sometimes. Instead, the smile reeked of a complete and utter wrongness. I wouldn't even hesitate to call it demonic._

 _"You've failed again, Taylor" her voice echoed eerily down the street._

 _The purple lines and patterns on her costume turned green, and the eye morphed into a stylized question mark. The gory mess that was her head was replaced by the visage of a smirking Brunette._

 _"Everyone is dead, Taylor. All because of you."_

 _She leveled her pistol at my eyes, and fired.  
_

* * *

 **Taylor**

I groaned, slowly blinking my eyes as I roused myself from another horrific dream. The tingling sensation that had been bothering me during orientation was back in full force, and I was struck by a distinct sense of vertigo as I shuffled around in my bed.

Fuck.

It had been over week since I'd gotten one of these nightmares, and the one I just had was probably the nastiest one I've experienced in a while. I shuddered, rubbing my temple with my hand, trying to force the gory image of Imp's rotting face out of my head. It didn't help that I had the mother of all headaches, and my nerves felt like they were on fire. Hell, why was the apartment so cold? I didn't have air conditioning in my apartment yet and-.

Wait.

I slowly opened my eyes to find myself in an unfamiliar room. My vision blurred and spun as I looked around, trying to figure out where I was. I was in a light blue gown, and I dimly noted an IV drip jammed into the back of my hand.

Everything came rushing back to me in an instant. I had been held hostage by supervillains at a bank robbery, I'd beaten down one of the capes, then I'd gone to help Alex. Another cape appeared, and she'd shot me in the neck.

I raised my hand up to my throat, where the cape with the green Tattletale costume had shot me. I felt all around my neck, only to be greeted with a small bandage and a tiny cut, as opposed to the frayed mess it had been before I passed out. A respirator sat on my face, and I dimly noted the electrodes that were strapped on my chest.

A cool, tranquil sensation settled over me as the uncomfortable tingling stopped, and my vision finally came into focus.

More than come into focus, actually. My vision was perfect, absolutely perfect, and for obvious reason, that unnerved me. Nevertheless, a pleasant wave of energy washed over me, and suddenly I felt rejuvenated and alert, like I could take on the entire world and come out on top.

I looked around to see my glasses sitting on a chair next to my bed, with my ashened backpack leaning against the chair. I gingerly picked up my glasses, taking care not to dislodge the IV drip, and I put them on.

My eyesight became blurry as I put the glasses on, and I promptly removed them.

There was no mistake about it, my vision had been completely restored, and there wasn't a single mark left on my body from the attack. I shivered, feeling the cold draft of the air conditioner on my skin. It might have just been my imagination, but it felt like my skin was more sensitive now than it had ever been before.

Was I still dreaming? I pinched myself on the thigh, hard enough to feel a sharp stab of pain run up my leg.

Scratch that, I was definitely awake.

What the hell was going on?

-ooo-

As it turned out, it'd been less than an hour since the bank robbery, and the hospital staff was still scrambling to sort out all the victims.

Not too long after I woke up, a police detective came to visit me, requesting my account of the bank robbery. My testimony corroborated with what they were expecting to hear - the robbers came in, took hostages, and placed charges all over the bank before raiding the vault. Then, I told them Guardian had come in and more or less mopped the floor with them, before I was hit by some shrapnel and debris launched by the explosions and knocked out. Of course, I left out my role in taking down Impulse while he was off in a corner catching his breath, and the fact that I'd thrown my prosthetic arm at Phaser from the side to knock his last shot off course.

After giving my testimony to the police detective, I was put through a brief gauntlet of tests by a doctor.

The doctor who looked me over was marveled at my injuries, or rather, the lack thereof. He noted that there was little to no residual damage to my lungs, despite initial acute smoke inhalation symptoms, nor did anything seem out of the ordinary when he performed a concussion exam.

After an an hour of poking and prodding, and an offer for an MRI I had to reject due to my "shoulder implant" courtesy of Lily, the doctor all but gave up and threw his hands up in the air. A nurse gave me my release forms and let me out with a clean bill of health, muttering something about triage and incompetent interns.

It was late in the afternoon, and I still had almost half an hour until my night lab class started. The hospital was a few blocks away from Union Square, which was only a ten minute walk away from the academic building.

I rubbed my shoulder on the way out, where Lily's bolt had once pierced me and welded into my bones. It was a spot where I was accustomed to feeling a roughness to the texture. A spot that often greeted me with a telling crunch and pop of cartilage and bone that had never quite healed properly.

The gentle brush of the early autumn breeze on my skin felt alien to me, and I shivered, feeling goosebumps rise in response to the wind. My sense of touch had never been quite the same since I was nearly killed by Bakuda's bomb a lifetime ago, and it was clear in hindsight that I had suffered a significant amount of nerve damage.

I sighed in nostalgia, thinking back to all the times I had been brought back from the brink of crippling or downright life-threatening injuries. In spite of the rocky, tumultuous relationship we had, Panacea had brought me from the gates of death an obscene number of times.

Unfortunately, she seemed to do just the barest minimum to keep me alive whenever she healed me, and left me with the damage I'd slowly accumulated as a cape each time. I had gotten used to the small, aching rickets and creaks which I stopped noticing long ago, and the difference was as clear as day now that they were gone.

I felt _great._

I stopped by a polished glass window and parted my hair up - even the faint scar left over from the time Bonesaw had cut into my forehead was gone, as were the two marks left by Contessa's marksmanship.

Whatever cape had healed me had repaired just about all the _superfluous_ injuries I had accumulated, and this could have only been done by a cape. Unfortunately, he or she didn't seem to have the means or intent to return my arm to me, or my power in its fullest.

I reached out to my power, and felt the comfortable hum of dozens of abstract pinpricks nearby coming to life. I was disappointed that I couldn't hang on to my connection to them without conscious effort, but knowing I could call on a small swarm of bugs if needed did a lot to bolster my confidence in a world that now had capes running around. It wouldn't do me much good against anyone who won the superpower lottery, but it was better than nothing.

I could only begin to spectate about the reasons behind healing me, with few benevolent scenarios coming to mind. Once again, I felt like a puppet dangling over a chasm, with little to no information while shadowy figures yanked on the strings from out of sight. The casual name-drops by the teleporter at the bank, the mysterious organization experimenting on humans beneath the city in a secret lab, waking up in a hospital with my body completely healed. None of it made any sense to me.

If only Tattletale were here to help me make sense of all this.

I furrowed my brow in thought, before reaching into my backpack and taking out my phone. I needed some answers, and the only people who might be able to share some insight were Alex and Val.

I was about to open up and dial his number, when my phone starting ringing on vibrate.

It was Dad.

"Hello? Dad?"

"Are you alright, Taylor? Where are you?!"

"Yeah I'm alright, what's going on?"

"There was a supervillain bank robbery in Chelsea - It's all over the news and internet! I saw it all online - a cape carried an unconscious girl out of a huge fire, and she looked a lot like...like you. I couldn't be sure if it was you, but I've been dialing your phone for three hours without being able to get in contact. You've had me really worried."

I hesitated for a second, and an awkward silence filled the air. What was I supposed to say? Hey dad, your daughter just got shot by a supervillainess while trying to be a hero?

"Yeah, uh, that was actually me Dad, and I wasn't even looking for trouble this time. I was literally just using an ATM when gunshots started going off around me and supervillains started rushing into the bank. They took us all hostage, and then a Hero came in and took them all down. Next thing I knew everything was on fire, and I passed out from the fumes."

Silence greeted me for a moment, then Dad started chuckling eerily. I felt bad about fudging the truth a little, but I didn't want him to worry more than he already had.

"Just my luck, huh? Sorry for almost dying on you again, Dad" I offered sheepishly.

"Where are you now, Taylor?" he demanded worriedly. "You weren't looking too good on the video."

"It looked worse than it was, trust me Dad, I was just discharged from the hospital for a mild case of smoke inhalation. I'm in perfect shape, and I'm actually headed for my chemistry class right now."

It was a half-truth, of course. That bullet had shorn right through my carotid artery, but I wasn't going to worry Dad with that little fact.

"Just...just take care of yourself, would you Taylor? I got sent down to Virginia to oversee some infrastructure work, but I'll fly back and try to set us up for lunch this week. And seriously honey, try to make an effort to stay out of trouble. Especially _that_ sort of trouble."

"I'll try not to let you worry Dad, I love you" I replied, with a smile gracing my lips.

"I love you too Taylor. Take care, sweetie" he responded.

Going back to what I was doing, I pulled up my contacts, and I dialed Alex's number. The call went straight to voicemail.

Well, looked like he was busy.

I texted him, letting him know I was awake and, miraculously, completely healed, and that we should talk.

Now what was I going to do again? Ah right, go to class.

I continued to walk down the street towards the lab. I had every reason in the world to miss class after walking into a bank robbery, but I had never felt this energetic in my life. The rush of energy hadn't left me since I'd woken up, and I did promise Grant I would take notes for him.

...

I took a few steps forward when it suddenly hit me - there was a video of me getting carried out of the world's first supervillain bank robbery plastered all over the internet, a video that would no doubt go viral.

The rush of exuberance and energy I'd been feeling evaporated, only to be replaced by a raw sense of irritation.

Joy.

-ooo-

The first lab of the semester was just an introductory safety class taught by a starving, under-paid graduate student. It was much shorter than what an ordinary session was supposed to take, and it went by without incident.

As I walked out of the academic building, I checked my phone, and noticed that Alex hadn't gotten back to me yet. I flipped on my phone, and dialed his number, only to hit his voicemail again.

Which was just a _little_ bit concerning.

My imagination ran wild with possibilities - could Alex be in police custody? Maybe those capes were itching for revenge, and tracked him down after they left? Was I just being way too paranoid?

Regardless, after what happened at the bank, I really needed to talk to his team, so I hailed down a cab for the cross-town drive.

Fifteen minutes later, I found myself standing in front of a familiar riverfront warehouse, with a tinge of nervousness.

Walking up to the door, I punched in the pass-code I'd been given a week ago.

"Sally?" I called out into the dimly lit room while the door slammed shut behind me.

The monitor that hung over the entrance-way stayed blank and silent as the lights flickered weakly.

A red flag went up in my head, and I reached into my bag, pulling out my pepper spray. The injuries we had given Phaser and Impulse would take them out for days, but I couldn't discount the possibility of the mysterious healing cape or Enigma herself coming back to do the dirty work.

Treading forward lightly, I activated my power and pushed open the double doors. I kept my hands on my can of pepper spray as I walked into the gloomy hallway.

As I had expected, there were spiders, centipedes, cockroaches, and other small pests lurking in the warehouse, but the number of insects I found was surprisingly small in the warehouse itself. I chalked it up to whatever technology Valeria was using to keep the place ventilated and clean.

Fucking Tinkers.

Having some minuscule control over my power was better than nothing, but with how limited my power was, I couldn't really make much use of anything here.

I turned the corner, slowly creeping down the last hallway before the main warehouse area, looking out for any signs of danger.

Coming to a familiar set of double doors, I turned the handle and entered the room while keeping my pepper spray leveled, only to walk straight into a solid wall of muscle.

I stumbled back on my heels, and righted my balance as I held up my pepper spray up defensively at a dark silhouette. The silhouette blurred to the side, and was grabbing onto my forearm with a gentle but firm hold.

I looked up, piecing out the dark figure's face against the murky lighting, and flushed a bit in embarrassment when I realized it was Alex.

"Woah woah woah! Easy there big man, it's just Taylor." I heard another familiar voice call out from the shadows. I heard a click, and I had to blink as my pupils were assaulted by an overwhelmingly bright flashlight.

"Taylor?" Alex asked with a look of mutual recognition crossing his face as he relaxed his grip. "You're out of the hospital already?"

"Yeah" I affirmed.

"Sorry about that" he apologized, "I felt someone creeping their way over here and we came over to greet our visitor. I was just out on my way to visit you too, after I debriefed our contact in the NYPD."

He looked me over once, then his eyes landed on my neck where the bullet had hit me and furrowed his brows in thought.

"Do you have a healing factor or something?" Jon asked, stepping out of the shadows. "That gunshot wound looked pretty serious and here you are, good as new."

I absentmindedly touched my hand to my neck where the bullet had hit me.

"No I don't have any healing abilities, and the fact that I woke up uninjured has me more than a little suspicious. That was a life-threatening injury for sure and I'm not sure how I'm even up, much less alive. What the hell happened after I passed out? Also, why are all the lights out?"

"Well, uh...according to Valeria, the base's 'embedded systems' - whatever those are, went haywire when you guys were fighting in the bank" Jon explained, "We're pretty sure Enigma shorted out a few nodes in the power grid and we're running on emergency power right now. Val is working in the back trying to figure out what happened, or how it was even possible. She says she'll have everything back online in fifteen minutes though."

"Enigma also managed to brick my main phone and the communicator in the helmet" Alex added with a look of irritation.

"Now as for what happened after you passed out..." Jon looked towards Alex with a smirk, before breaking out into a shit-eating grin.

Alex covered his face and groaned in embarrassment.

-ooo-

 _"HAHA! Fear not, citizens! Hope has arrived!"_ _  
_

With a woop, Jon ran to the main work area, and flipped open a laptop, which was immediately opened on a YouTube clip of the bank incident.

The cameraman had been standing a respectable distance away from the action, but he was still close enough to make out the spectacle of Guardian blowing away the pile of rubble in front of the bank, and close enough to clearly record Guardian shouting to reassure the people around him.

A Herculean man walked out of a blazing inferno holding me bridal style, with a pack of civilians crowding out behind him. The hi-tech, face-obscuring visor, full hood mask, and cutting edge, black and blue ceramic armor would have been a worthy footnote in Earth Bet, but it wouldn't have been anything special.

However, in a world without a history of capes, it was probably quite a spectacle to behold. In a matter of hours, the video had already racked up over a million views on Youtube.

Alex paused the video with another pained groan.

"Looks like you two have made the rounds quite a bit there" Val commented. "The video is cascading into full virality and the viewership velocity is _still_ continuing to increase."

"Dammit" I cursed in irritation, "The _last_ thing I needed or wanted was for video of me to be plastered all over the world like that. It's only a matter of time before it brings trouble down on our heads."

"Oh come on man, you're being paranoid" Jon replied, "You were slack in Alex's arms, with your glasses off. Not only that, your face was also obscured by your hair."

"If you knew about the kinds of enemies I had on Earth Bet, you'd realize you aren't nearly being paranoid enough" I snapped back at him.

"We know for a fact that I wasn't the only refugee from Earth Bet, and although it's pretty unlikely, it'll only take one sufficiently motivated person recognizing who I am to ruin any sort of anonymity I have."

"Take it easy Taylor" Val said soothingly, placing her hand on my shoulder. "This might very well turn out to be a problem down the road, but what's done is done. It's just something that we're going to have to improvise and deal with it in the future."

I begrudgingly nodded with a small frown.

"I take it you had your fair share of notoriety back on Bet, Weaver?" Alex casually commented. "That girl in the bank seemed to recognize you, and the way you freaked out when you saw that girl's costume..."

The casual namedrop caused me to twitch a little in annoyance.

"My name is Taylor, Alexander. Weaver died in battle against Scion" I responded cooly. "That cape's costume was a knockoff of my best friend's, which as you might imagine, stirred up some painful memories. It didn't help that she shot me in the fucking neck a couple seconds after."

"Damn, I'm sorry" he apologized. "Anyway, the point still stands. Taylor's right. I'm sure she had a legitimate reason to disappear, so nothing good can come from this publicity. Plus there's the fact that I painted a giant target on my own head for any villains looking for their fifteen minutes of infamy."

A moment of silence filled the air as we mulled over the possibilities and consequences independently. Suddenly, Alex's phone went off with a text. He checked it, and his eyes widened as he stood up.

"Something just came up - I've got an errand to run, but I'll be back in a bit. I'll be back in about an hour or two to make dinner if you guys are willing to stay around that long."

"Hell yeah" Jon enthusiastically declared, "I'm still dreaming about the huge pot of stew you made last Friday, like holy shit, what hell did you put in that thing?"

"Family secret" Alex smiled mysteriously, before tossing the jacket around him.

As he turned around, I briefly noticed a flash of worry crossing his eyes, and he walked out the doors.

-ooo-

 **Alex**

"Excuse me."

The nurse on duty was a husky woman with a Buddha-like face. She wore a shining smiley face button over her right breast that said "Have a wonderful day!" over a nametag that said 'Rosa'.

She turned to me, and a look of recognition ran across her face.

"You're looking for 9L, Alyssa Zeng, right?" she asked.

"Yes I am."

"She's undergoing chemo right now, she'll be back in a bit."

I nodded, "Thank you Rosa."

"We should be thanking you. She never talks to anyone nowadays, but she has a special place in her heart for her cousin."

"She doesn't talk to the other children here anymore?" I asked.

The nurse bit her lip.

"Alyssa is a tough case. She's been here for the past year and a half, and she's always miserable because of the treatment. The days when her family comes by are the only times anyone ever sees her smile."

The nurse leaned over the desk and stared intently into my eyes.

"Don't you dare stop visiting her, you hear?"

"I...I wouldn't even imagine it" I replied with a stutter.

I returned to Alyssa's room, and sat in the guest chair, staring out the window at the setting sun and waiting patiently for Alyssa to return.

Suddenly, I felt a shift in the air, and I knew someone had entered the room. Her face and frame reflected faintly off the window glass.

"Thanks for covering my friend's ass" I remarked as she walked up to me.

The woman sunk down into the chair next to me.

"How do you figure?" she replied.

"Val has every system connected open network within New York City compromised, including the greater NYPD. We know you've been looking for someone who matches Taylor's description for questioning regarding the bookstore incident. Despite the fact that I've told you she's working for us, I think the investigation takes a higher priority when it comes to your job."

She sighed, before responding, "You know I'm always looking out for you for you, kiddo. You going to tell me who our one-armed wonder is, and how she's involved in all this superhuman bullshit anytime soon?"

I shrugged in response, "I wish I could. All I know about her is that she's from Earth Bet, and has a deeply involved with a state sanctioned government agency responsible for keeping them in check. She's quite a badass though. Jumped in the thick of the scrap with me without a moment of hesitation."

"I can't keep covering for you guys like this, you know? The feds have allowed these...superpowers to go unchecked for so long because we've had bigger fish to fry, but, when does it end? First the petty theft, then the bookstore, and now...now this. The area around the West Highway looks like a goddamned warzone now."

"I totally understand, Maddie. It's also why I put on the act I did back there at the bank."

"You mean dressing and acting like an over the top character straight out of a comic book?"

"Precisely" I slinked back in my chair. "The people are _scared_ Maddie, scared of what we can do, of the implications of men and women walking around with...with these powers. When I put on a costume, full hood and all, and act like someone out of the Silver Age on TV, the people know they're getting a _superhero."_

"I get it, I get it" Maddie grunted. "We still have to find some long term solutions for handling metahumans though. Especially one that doesn't infringe on basic human rights. They're thinking of having me head off my own team within the NYPD because of my connection with you, you know? Giving me my own specialized jurisdiction as an Inspector."

"Director Madeline McCoy huh? When are you going to get the eyepatch?" I joked.

"It's looking like more of a possibility every day now, Alex."

I was about to respond, when the nurse from earlier wheeled my thirteen year old cousin in.

Seeing the changes in her broke my heart - she looked even paler and sweatier than the last time I saw her. She was wearing a bandanna wrapped around her head and neck, and her eyes flicked towards our direction.

" _Ge Ge_ , Maddie..." she whispered, "Sorry you have to see me like this."

"It's no biggie, seeing that my _Biao_ _mei_ is still alive and fighting is enough for me" I smiled sadly as I carefully lifted her up like a doll and placed her in the bed.

"If you have to throw up," Rosa said as she placed a metal basin next to the bed, "Go ahead and use this. Don't you go rushing out of bed to the bathroom or anything."

"Thank you Miss Gutierrez" Alyssa whimpered.

I moved my chair over to the edge of the bed and clasped my hand over her delicate, tiny fingers, smiling gently down at at Alyssa.

"How are you feeling, Allie?"

With the most inopportune timing imaginable, she retched, and Maddie reacted instantly, grabbing the basin off the nightstand and passing it to me. Alyssa turned and vomited profusely into it. When she was done, Maddie put the basin back on the stand and curled up under her sheets.

"Not good," she said with a weak smile, tears running down from her tightly closed eyes.

I leaned over and tenderly clasped my large, rugged hands over her tiny, delicate fingers as Maddie stepped out to give us some space.

"Hhh..." she breathed heavily, pressing her head into my arm, "You remind me of daddy, before the accident."

"Do I?" I replied softly.

"Whenever I was sick, he used to hold my hands like this and stay with me until I felt better." She replied, even quieter. "Weird, huh?"

"Funny how stuff like this runs in the family" I smiled, even as I felt a burning sensation as my own tears welled up behind my eyes.

"They want to start me on a stronger round of chemotherapy treatments" she said. "My doctor was a little concerned that my cancer wasn't responding to the current plan as well as he would have liked."

"K-keep fighting for me, you hear?" I pleaded "Leave everything else to me. The hospital bills, hell, the research. Anything."

She coughed again, before climbing up and weakly opening her eyes to spit a wad of bile into the basin.

"Do you want to know what I wished for, when you came to visit me during my birthday?" she asked.

"Aren't you worried it won't come true if you tell?"

"It wouldn't come true in the first place because it's impossible." she said, closing her eyes with a deep, ragged breath.

"How so?" I replied.

"I wished that I could open the window and fly away from all this. Grow some wings or something and just fly. A chance to forget about how much cancer sucks, how the chemotherapy makes me feel even worse, and how awful hospital food is."

I smiled down at her sadly, gently brushing the tears from her face.

"You never know, Allie. In this crazy day and age, that kind of wish just might end up coming true."

-ooo-

 **Taylor**

 _"Incoming conference request from the Brooklyn Initiative"_ Sally's voice echoed through the room, not too long after Alex walked out.

"Approved" Val answered without hesitation.

"Dammit" a raspy, contralto voice swore in a very faint urban latin accent as the screen crackled in static, before coming into focus. "Where the hell have you been Dagger? I've been trying to get in contact with you all evening."

She had a skin-tight dark grey jump suit that accentuated her amazonian and well built body. Her face was covered by a birdlike Domino mask that covered her eyes, and a stylized image raven spreading its wings sat on her chest. It was Night Raven, a woman in her mid-thirties and the head of the Brooklyn Initiative, a neighborhood "Real Life Superhero" watch based in Greenpoint. She was also apparently a budding information broker aiming to provide stability in her neighborhood.

"Sorry Truesight, you've seen the news right? About the bank? I don't know how, but our new friends managed to EMP our gear, and our base at the same time. Alex's main phone even got bricked and he's using his secondary right now. What's going on?"

She whistled, "So I was right, that Robocop guy on the news was actually Alex?"

"Yup, in the flesh, a lot noisier than he usually prefers to act, though."

"Hah! I'll be damned, Kernel is going to owe me a twenty for that. Do I see some new faces in the background, Val? New teammates?"

"Yes Michelle, I'll be sure to give you the important details later, leaving out the fine details and such. We can even set up a meet and greet when What's got you spooked?"

"You know me far too well girl, so I'm going to get straight to the point. One of the boys under my wing, Thomas, has gone missing, and I could use your help tracking him down. I'm sending a picture now."

In a matter of seconds, and a set of pictures loaded on the screen. The pictures were of a blonde prettyboy in his late teens or early twenties. He was around average height, and in one picture, he was wearing a preppy button-down shirt and slacks. In the other, he was in a silly, ill-fitted costume halfway between "viking" and "renaissance faire attendee". The boy looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I'd seen him before.

I frowned for a minute, looking over his facial features trying to figure out where I'd seen him before, before my eyes rolled over his name at the bottom of the picture - Thomas Summers.

I stared at his face more intently, then it finally dawned on me.

The boy bore a striking but not quite identical resemblance to someone I knew - A certain NYU freshman named Grant Summers.


	21. Turbulence 2-5a, Unwritten Rules

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Worm, Worm is the property of Wildbow.

* * *

A tapping noise filled her dreams.

 _*Tap tap tap*_

Alyssa woke to the typical hums and beeps of the hospital operating. It was dark out, and she glanced over to the clock on her nightstand - twelve fourteen, a bit past midnight.

 _*Tap tap tap*_

The tapping noise started again, and she wearily glanced over to the window where the noise seemed to originate from.

A black figure crouched outside the window, silhouetted against the moonlight. Alyssa shirked back in fear when it stood up, and the figure cocked its head, waving its arm and beckoning her towards it.

Ironing her resolve, Alyssa climbed out of bed, and wobbled unsteadily on her feet. The dark figure continued to motion to her. Alyssa briefly wondered how someone could get outside her window, seeing how she was on the ninth floor of the hospital.

Carefully, she tip-toed towards the window. She hesitated for a moment, then cracked the latch open by an inch. The dark figure smoothly moved into the room with a cat-like grace, and stood before her.

"Sheesh, were you going to make me stay out there all night?" he whispered.

Alyssa's eyes widened as she recognized the voice.

"BIG BR-!?"

Alex placed a finger on her lips.

"Shh! Keep it down, you want the nurses to find me here?"

Alyssa's mouth hung open, stunned as the dark, armored figure dropped a windbreaker jacket, sweater, socks, and ski pants in her hands.

"Put those on, it'll be too cold outside for you to be just wearing those thin pajamas."

"Umm...where are we going, Alex?" she asked as he pulled a Ushanka hat over her bald head and clicked the strap together.

"We're going to make your wish come true" he said as he unhooked a weird looking harness from around his waist.

"The next round of bed checks is at 2 a.m, we're going to have to be back here by then.

Alyssa slapped herself, wondering if she was dreaming.

"This is a climbing harness, I'm going to need you securely fastened on it."

.Alyssa nodded numbly, still failing to comprehend what she was seeing. She puzzled out the harness, and with some help from her big bro, managed to strap it on. There were four other straps that seemed to hang loosely as she clasped it on.

"Alex, what are these straps for?"

He checked her harness over intently, biting his lips as he fumbled around his pockets. Then he handed her a ski mask.

"Those are for me. Here you should wear this too - keeps the wind and bugs out of your face."

Still confused, Alyssa put on the mask as Alex checked the harness one last time, then he turned and crouched in front of her.

"Climb on" he commanded gently.

Alyssa complied, and her older cousin stood up straight. She grabbed the harness straps and brought them up between her legs, then she brought the top straps over her shoulders. She clicked the straps together, and found herself secured against Alex's back. Alex glanced at her over his shoulder and turned the lights off, before moving towards the open window.

"Umn, uh.. uh...Alex, what are you doing?"

"We're going to go flying, or at the very least, the closest thing to it that we can."

Before Alyssa could respond, Alex jumped out and she shut her eyes reflexively, yelping and clutching onto him for dear life as they fell.

She felt a lurch, and when she opened her eyes again, they were standing on the hospital roof.

 _The roof has to be fifty odd feet from my floor, how did he do that?_

Then he began to run fast, impossibly fast. Alyssa felt Alex's muscles rippling beneath her as he approached the edge of the roof.

 _He's not about to do what I think he's about to do, is he?_

Alex sprinted to the edge of the roof, and jumped out into the night sky. Alyssa clenched her eyes shut again, trying her best to hold back a scream. A second later, she realized that they weren't falling.

She opened her eyes, only to find herself staring down at the brightly lit park below, perched on her dearest cousin's back as he stood on what appeared to be thin air.

"How you feeling back there?" he asked, peering over his shoulder.

"H-h-how... w-what." Alyssa stammered.

"I'll tell you some other time, Allie. Are you ready to fly?"

A rush of exhilaration gripped Alyssa's chest.

"Yeah!"

In a gust of wind, Alex leapt down towards the park, stopping above a street light, and rapidly hopped to another, and another, and another. The numerous pedestrians that were out late on a weekday evening pointed and shouted in the air as the dark blur rapidly shot across the park. He jumped up into the air, sailing over a telephone pole, and before Alyssa knew it, they had landed on another rooftop.

He sprinted forwards, clearing the rooftop in less than a second, and he began to jump from rooftop to rooftop. He was moving fast enough that Alyssa really thought she was flying. The scenario rolled by smoothly as they moved, and Alex didn't seem to stumble in the slightest. It seemed that every couple of seconds, they would ascend another thirty or forty feet.

Maintaining his momentum, Alex jumped off from a roof, shooting across a span of seventy or eighty feet over the empty air as Alyssa ceased any efforts at staying quiet and began to cheer and squeal in delight. He latched onto the side of a tall building, and began to dash along the side in a horizontal run. From the side, he did a spin, landing on another street light, and hopped clear across the street to another light. Without halting his stride, he jumped towards another skyscraper and began to run along its side.

Alyssa continued to cheer with glee. She had never felt more excited in her entire life.

This had to be a dream, and if it was, Alyssa hoped that she would never wake up from it.

Continuing to ascend, Alex began to pick up momentum again, and pushed with one final dash upwards, slingshotting them across the air. Alyssa's heart filled with wonder as she stared at the city below, a sprawling, magnificent maze of steel, concrete, and shining lights.

They landed on top of a large structure, and they finally stopped. Alyssa looked around, and saw that they were standing on the edge of a skyscraper.

"Where are we, Alex?"

Alex stayed silent for a second, basking in the view before finally speaking.

"The building we're standing on right now is called the Memorial Tower. It was originally due to open this year as an observatory, but the top quarter was cleaved off during Scion's attack. The city kind of threw up its arms and decided to make it stand as a testament to mankind's resilience, rather than commemorate any single tragedy."

Alyssa was stunned by the breathtaking view of the city around her.

"Now come on, we're on a time limit and there's some more cool stuff to see around the city. Wait till you see what the city looks like from on top of the bridges."

Without warning, Alex jumped up into the air, with his arms splayed out. Then, he clasped them to his side like a skydiver.

All Alyssa could do was scream in excitement and terror.

-ooo-

"Alex?" Alyssa asked.

"Hm?"

"Are you some kind of superhero?

Alex paused to look at her.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone your secret identity" she smiled weakly as I helped her change into her hospital garb.

"I'm going to leave now, kid. Get some sleep and I'll see you again when I can." he whispered. "And remember, this is our little secret."

He winked, and turned to make for the window.

"Hey big bro."

Alex turned back to her. She was smiling warmly, her eyes shimmering against the dim glow of the city skyline.

"Thank you for the tonight... I love you."

He quivered a little, almost as if he were fighting back tears, and he leaned over to her, stroking her hair before kissing her on the forehead.

"I love you too, Allie."

I sensed an approaching nurse as she flinched from my brief display of affection, and I jumped for the window.

Alyssa heard the click of her door as the nurse began to make arounds for her bed check. She looked back at Alex and saw that he had already vanished.

The curtains billowed for a moment as the night nurse approached the window, closing it shut.

* * *

Off in the distance, a lone woman stood perched on a rooftop building.

The woman pointed her device at the ninth floor of the hospital, and pushed down on a button, snapping a picture.


	22. Turbulence 2-6

**Turbulence 2.6**

A/N: A lot of worldbuilding, character interactions, and exposition this chapter, but not a lot of action. If you haven't noticed, I've swapped out the names of a lot of NYU buildings with similar sounding ones just for flavor.

Tactical fight scenes come pretty naturally to me but I get stumped writing slice of life stuff strangely enough. That's why this chapter took the better part of three weeks, while I'm about halfway done with 2.7.

Ah well, I'll figure it out eventually. It gets slightly less difficult every time.

Anyway, here we go! Turbulence 2.6.

* * *

 **[Tuesday, 9-2-14, 1:34 A.M]**

From time to time, the Duke of Greenwich would spend his evenings lounging in a lazy corner of Washington Square Park. He had a thing for the hippie-type boys and girls, and the buds and joints they would pass between them.

College kids could afford to buy some decent herb, and he was always willing to partake a little in their circles and hang around for conversation. That night, the Duke really wasn't feeling it - he high-fived a few of the cute newcomer freshmen in ragged jeans and tanktops, and walked off towards the dive bars in the West Village.

The Duke warmed his hands in his pockets and shivered - the first touches of autumn were falling upon the city, and the Duke couldn't bring out any of his good clothes.

Likable, friendly, and ambiguously homeless was a great combination to score money and free drugs off rich kids pretending to be anarchists and communists, of course.

The Duke fist bumped a crew of handsome frat boys as they passed by, staggering drunkenly through the West Village with a herd of sorority girls hot on their trail.

"Have a good one bro!" he shouted to a particularly cute frat boy with a smile and a fist pump.

The Duke glanced at a clock as he walked down Christopher Street. He still had an hour or two until last call at Ugly Rob's Saloon, which drew the few neighborhood folks that hadn't been driven out by the rising rent costs or an excessively land-hungry NYU.

Ugly Rob's was one of those rare establishments that still had a sawdust floor, and the atmosphere was smoky and homely. If Gene Dutro was at the bar, the Duke knew he could score a pint or two off the tattooist to spark his buzz.

Taking a dash across, the Duke scarcely noticed the drunken racial slur hurled at his way as he took a corner towards the side entrance of Ugly Rob's. He huffed in pleasure as the wonderful aroma of beer and grease-laden cigarette smoke slowly filled the air.

In two decades of walking the streets of New York City, The Duke had seen his share of the bizarre: streakers, violent political protests, drug deals gone wrong, eco-terrorists, creative public "watersports", and plenty of bar brawls.

Nothing really took the Duke by surprise anymore.

Until that night, at the Duke reached for the door, he heard a loud rumble, followed by a crashing noise from down the dark alley, causing him to turn his head at the sudden commotion.

Forty feet down the alley, a steel dumpster spun on its side like a top. A massive humanoid silhouette wearing a ragged, brown trench coat stood at the end of the alley, which suddenly filled with the mewling cries of felines.

"W-what the fuck? the Duke managed to stutter out.

He massaged his temples, wondering if the free weed he'd been given was laced with something tonight.

With a lightning quick flash and a snarl, the creature darted towards the back of the alley. The figure stood up, and the Duke could make out massive, fur-covered muscular arms in the darkness. It had powerful legs reminiscent of a kangaroo's, which was rounded out by a wolf-like head with glowing yellow eyes.

It held a trio of terrified kittens in its hands, which frantically scratched at its arms to no avail. With nary a care in the world, it chomped down on the creatures whose lives it held in its hands, and the cries of the mewling kittens were promptly snuffed out.

 _"HUNGRY"_ the creature snarled, still covered in bloody chunks and giblets from its meal.

The creature howled at the sky like a wolf, and reached down at something by his feet. The Duke heard a metal "clang", and the dark figure dropped down into the ground.

The Duke's footsteps echoed through the now-empty alleyway as he slowly walked over to the site of the overturned dumpster. He touched his fingers on a severed, bloody cat's paw on top of a sewer manhole, confirming that what he'd just witnessed wasn't merely a figment of his drug-addled mind.

 _I...I could definitely use that drink right about now..._

-ooo-

 **Taylor**

"Now with all the lengthy introductions out of the way, let's get started with our brief introductory lecture!"

About a dozen students sat seated in a horseshoe-shaped ring in the seminar room, less than twenty feet away from the woman standing patiently at the center of the room.

"As you may have surmised from the size of the class and the hour we spent doing introductions, IDSEM 19 - Freshman Interdisciplinary seminar on Resources, Technology, and Perspectives on Human Development will be a discussion-based class."

Professor Virginia Chandler was a woman whose perky exuberance and baby-faced appearances belied her true age. If I didn't know better, I would have pegged her as a woman in her late 20s, not the middle aged woman I knew she was. The short, energetic woman was dressed to impress, and she wore a white dress shirt beneath an open navy blazer. Her brown hair was tied up into a bun, and her face was defined by a wide friendly smile that never seemed to disappear.

"So our topic of discussion for today is as follows - What caused the decline of American manufacturing?"

Her coat fluttered against the gentle draft of the building's air conditioning as she brought up a collection of pictures of abandoned warehouses and factories.

"...Anyone care to share their thoughts?"

The class around me stared at Professor Chandler with a look of confusion and surprise. As usual, I had a pretty stoic reaction to the question. I wasn't from this Earth, and I was missing a bit of context for this discussion. I had glanced over countless biased political articles when browsing news sites, but I didn't know enough to have a valid input.

Instead, I took the opportunity to practice regaining control over my power. I was controlling exactly forty one insects within about a thirty meter, while simultaneously staying focused on what was going on in front of me.

I was still the the world's greatest multitasker, but dammit I used to be so much _stronger_ than this! I couldn't even see through them except for the occasional random flash of distorted images anymore.

"How about you Travis? What do you think? What happened to all the factories and workshops that used to roar with life all over Brooklyn? Why have the slaughterhouses and mills that once filled Downtown Manhattan been replaced by nightclubs, art museums, and high end boutiques? Why have all the factories that lined the waterfront along Brooklyn and Queens shuttered their doors?"

"I...I don't know, professor."

She smiled reassuringly at the student she'd singled out. "Are you from the city, Travis?"

The student sat up in his seat, suspicious of the traps that teachers loved to spring on their students.

"Yes ma'am, born and raised on the Upper East Side."

"I can see the conflicting thoughts bouncing around in your head, so let's try this instead. How would your _family_ answer that question?"

He considered it for a second, before replying, "Dad would probably say that the unions were too greedy, wanted too much, and pushed all of the factories out of business. On top of that, he would point fingers at the layers of regulations and red tape involved in being a factory owner here, driving up the costs even more."

At that response, a couple of the students in the room began snickering and rolling their eyes.

The professor on the other hand, flashed a reassuring smile towards Travis, and nodded.

"Your father actually does have a point, Travis. A large number of analysts do think that unions were heavily involved in the decline and stagnation of American manufacturing. This is an area of intense scholarly contention, which is often colored by prior political leanings."

She adjusted her glasses, before continuing, "On the other hand, it is unlikely that the sprawling industries that once adorned New York's waterfront were toppled by unions alone. What else might have caused the decline?"

She twirled around and aimed the marker at the girl sitting next to me.

"Miss Barrette! What can you tell me? Why do you think the manufacturing industry has declined so drastically in America over recent years?"

"Globalization? Other countries could produce goods at much lower labor costs, pushing American companies out of businesses."

"An excellent answer, Holly. Up until recently, the United States was the big dog when it came to manufacturing, across a large number of industries. However, as China began to shift its political ideologies and agendas, the United States began to face incredibly fierce competition from other nations. A large number of American companies took advantage of less stringent environmental standards and," she turned to point her marker at Travis, "cheaper labor overseas."

She adjusted her spectacles and began to pace back and forth, continuing her lecture with a more serious expression.

"Unfortunately, globalization too, is insufficient to explain the phenomenon, even when accounting for the increased costs at home due to union politics and government regulations. Eight or nine out of ten of the people you'll meet on the street will give you the same answer Travis and Holly gave, and they wouldn't be wrong. However, they wouldn't be right either. As scholars, we need to look past the simple, easily digestible answers, and dig a little deeper."

With an exaggerated flourish, she pointed clicked a pointer she had on her coat pocket, and two separate pictures of Times Square appeared on the projector screen. The class around me blinked in confusion, but my heart skipped a beat as I quickly recognized the picture on the left as Earth Bet's Times Square during the day, and the picture on the right as the Times Square I'd visited during orientation. Glancing down at the bottom, the pictures were labeled with a stylized Hebrew "Bet" and "Samek".

Whereas Earth Samek's Times Square was a sprawling commercial center covered in billboards, restaurants, and large shopping centers, Earth Bet's version of Times Square was rather tame in comparison. The only thing that stood out as remarkable from Earth Bet's version was the PRT administrative building which stood proudly at the center of the picture.

"For the first time in human history, we now have an unprecedented opportunity to examine two eras of development on _parallel_ earths. That is, Earth Bet and our own lovely Earth Samek. What we do know of Earth Bet has been obtained from interviews with survivors as well as extracted from the knowledge brought over by refugees. It isn't a complete picture, but we do know enough to paint a rough history of events and extrapolate from them."

The professor clicked the button again, bringing up an annotated map of Earth Bet next to one of Earth Samek in 2011. The students began to murmur as she clicked again, zooming in on a large bloc labeled 'Chinese Union-Imperial'.

"Amazing, isn't it? Two earths that were eerily similar up until the Reagan and Bush administrations, before colorful events such as China crowning a new emperor began to occur. I'm sure you've all had your fill of superhero tales from Earth Bet, but _this_ is the part we care about, within the scope of our course at least."

She began to flash through the next couple of slides, which were more side by side comparisons of the two earths. Most of the pictures were of Las Vegas and Detroit.

"Pre-cataclysm Earth Bet was a world where American manufacturing was more or less still intact, along with the Free Trade agreements formed in the early days of globalization. Although trade with China was clamped down by the new monarchists, the United States still managed to create manufacturing agreements with other stable, developing countries for cheap labor. As you can see from the Ford and General Motors vehicles that lined the streets, American manufacturing was well and alive in Earth Bet, even with the competition abroad."

The professor clicked the button a few more times, bringing up some images of the computers commonly used on Earth Bet as well as some screenshots of open browsers and hardware specifications. Then she scrolled through other technological staples, including the cell phones, cars, and home appliances. All of which were top of the line back in Earth Bet.

"Woah...looks like we're back in Web 1.0 now" a student commented.

"Precisely" she affirmed, before abruptly spinning to point her marker at me.

"Taylor, I'm sure you and most of your colleagues are on the same wavelength now, but what can you conclude about the state of computing from these examples?"

Well, as one of the few people who could make a comparison first hand...

"Despite the proliferation of superpowered Tinkers in Earth Bet, the world actually lagged behind Earth Samek technologically, in many ways. By our world's standards, the hardware used on Earth Bet was about ten years behind" I answered.

Which was true. The search engines and operating systems on Earth Samek were on a completely different level from the ones on Earth Bet. The existence of "Google" made my life incredibly convenient over the last couple of months. Not to mention, the computers here were cheaper too.

"Now we're getting to the crux of the matter. It even sounds like you're speaking from experience, no less."

She finally uncapped the marker she'd been waving around, and scrawled **TECHNOLOGY** on the whiteboard.

"Throughout the 90s, a lot of the largest players in materials manufacturing actually increased their domestic output while simultaneously _slashing_ jobs. New technologies emerged in almost every sector of American industry, which allowed manufacturers to increase output while decreasing their labor costs. The largest cost to most businesses of course, is typically labor. With machines invented that could produce and refine as much lumber or steel as dozens of men, there were numerous industries that could maintain the same output with a fraction of their existing labor force."

"That's not a bad thing in of itself though" a student commented. "Although it's unfortunate that millions of Americans lost their jobs, a ton of new jobs were created as technology and society marched on."

"Coldly poignant, if not accurate response, Calvin. I'm not advocating against progress though, and my goal here is to instill an awareness in all of you of how or why our world changes. Those of you with queasy stomachs might want to show some discretion with this next part."

She clicked the button in her hand again, and my blood began to pump furiously as the students around me murmured loudly.

A city in ruins. Japanese writing.

"Now that we've covered the first cornerstone of this course - technology, we must ask ourselves one thing. What then, caused this overall lag in technology on Earth Bet?"

"Endbringers" I swore quietly under my breath.

"Correct Taylor, but only one part of the puzzle" Professor Chandler stated with her back turned, hearing me despite my low volume.

She turned to me again and bending forward with a twinkle in her eyes, "I take it you're a bit of a cape enthusiast, Taylor?"

"A...little?" I replied, shrinking under her soft but appraising and curious gaze.

"Care to tell us about these Endbringers, Taylor?"

"I read about the Endbringers a while back." Calvin interjected, meeting my eyes with a nod. "They were supposedly giant monsters that roamed the planet and would smash up a city every couple of months."

She blinked in surprise, before turning back to the projector screen.

"Anyway" she continued, "I'm certain at the moment that a couple of you may have heard rumors, but it was only about a week ago when we had found documented evidence that these these so-called Endbringers were actually real."

Professor Chandler sighed, before clicking her button again. A low resolution video clip began to play, with a scaled map displayed on the side.

"H-holy shit..." Travis stuttered.

"Language, mister Silverstein!" Profesor Chandler admonished cheerfully.

It was simply a force of nature at work. The video was a clip of a massive tidal wave washed over city, pushing hundreds of buildings over, claiming millions of lives. In the middle of the water, a fireball with a faint reptilian figure at the center clashed against the building-sized Leviathan. A streak of water flew up to the camera from the brawl, which abruptly ended the clip.

"Studying the long term economic damage of the Endbringers is a course within itself, which I will be designing as a 300-level sociology course in three or four semester. This brings us to the second cornerstone of the course."

She scribbled the word **RESOURCES** in bold under **TECHNOLOGY'**. She turned and pointed her marker at Calvin, who had hi hand in the air.

"Fun fact" Calvin added again, "China, Japan, and South Korea supply most of the world's shipbuilding. From the 90s onward, China also supplied most of the valuable metals that fuel our tech sector. If the Chinese were xenophobic isolationist, then our engineers would have had a very hard time finding the material to fuel their research."

"Excellent, Calvin. I was going to end the lecture with a brief alluion and cover that in the next one, but we can end the lecture on a high note with your contribution."

Calvin beamed with a satisfied grin.

"In our next lecture, we'll be discussing the second cornerstone of our course - raw access to resources, and the vital trade mechanisms that fueled the world's globalized technological development and industry before the cataclysm brought on by Sion. Your homework will be assigned to you by tonight via e-mail, and it will be due in my office during recitation on Friday morning."

She adjusted her blazer, before stepping back to address the entire class at once.

"There is one thing I want you to take away from this course and lecture though. It is quintessential that we pay attention to our history, in this case, _histories_ , lest the tides of change take us all by surprise."

-ooo-

It was still fairly warm outside in spite of the rain, but I shivered as a breeze blew past me in the wind. You could definitely sense that Autumn was beginning to creep around the corner.

Luckily, I had worn a thin, long-sleeved track jacket ever since I'd woken up in the hospital and I simply couldn't get over how much more _intense_ everything felt on my bare skin.

At the very least, the jacket kept people from staring at my stump. Oh sure, occasionally someone would notice that my right sleeve hung limply by my side, but it was rare for anyone to bat an eye. I still needed to get my prosthetic arm replaced after a two-bit Blaster destroyed it.

The rain had suddenly started to hammer down on us in a downpour, and the students coming out behind us were taking shelter under some scaffolding as we came out of the lecture hall.

I jumped a little as I felt a weight lean in, playfully staring up at me.

"Dang, you're tall" Holly spoke as we stood in front of the academic building. "Do you have an umbrella that we could use, maybe?"

"Unfortunately not" I said with a sigh. It had been sunny out when we entered the lecture hall, and now it looked like a pretty heavy thunderstorm was rolling over us. "Looks like we're a little out of luck there."

"How about lunch then?" she offered, gesturing to a dormitory dining hall further down the row of scaffolding. "I ended up getting more meal swipes than I think I'll be able to finish by the end of the semester. I could use your help clearing them out."

"Sure, let's go" I accepted with a shrug.

Trying our best to stay under the cover provided by the scaffolding, we made our way to the dining hall, briefly dashing through the open rain in the process.

As it turned out, we weren't the only students with the idea. The dining room packed, and there were a number of students eating on the stairs to the cafeteria and entrance steps. Holly swiped me in anyway, and a couple of minutes later, we had gotten our food from the buffet line and we were stuck standing around looking for seats.

That was, until I noticed someone waving at me and looking towards my direction. I could sort of make out that the person was a boy with dirty blond hair, brown eyes, and that he was wearing an 'NYU' hoodie. My eyes still had a bit of double vision as I was getting used to seeing without glasses, and it took a moment before I recognized him.

The figure was Calvin from the freshman seminar we'd just gotten out of. He had just sat down with a tray at a lone table with four chairs as the previous occupants left. I put my hand on Holly's shoulder,before pointing at his direction. Holly followed behind me as I walked over.

"Hey there, I've got a few open seats here if you guys wouldn't mind keeping me company."

"Thanks a lot Calvin!" Holly chimed.

"Thanks" I agreed, taking a seat.

"Don't mention it, and please, call me Cal. You guys hiding out down here from the storm too?"

"Yup, it's a bit of a mess out there" I answered.

I popped open my cup of boiling water and placed a Lipton bag inside.

"Definitely" Holly agreed. "I think my notebook got soaked. Speaking of which, what do you have over there?"

There was an open notebook sitting next to Calvin's bowl full of steaming hot beef stew. It was covered with a bunch of tinker-like superhero designs and costumes, and a bunch of crossed-out names covered the page. The names ranged from the typical such as "Ultraweapon" and "Megasuit" to the silly, such as "Mechanical". There was also what looked like a suit designed for capture called "Man-o-CALS".

He blushed, shrinking and flashing us an awkward smile.

"Yeah...if you didn't figure it out during class, I'm bit of an enthusiast when it comes to Earth Bet, sans genocidal Goldenboy Prime and all. I've been consuming comic books since I could read, and Iron Man was always my favorite hero growing up. I have a feeling Taylor here also knows a thing or two about Bet, given what she said during the lecture"

Iron Man? Huh. That was a new one for a cape name.

"I dunno, I've always been a bit of a X-men girl myself. These designs are pretty cool though" Holly replied, leaning in to take a closer look. "Woah, these look like actual...well, engineering blueprints."

The conversation was really beginning to lose itself on me. I really needed to catch up on the "comic book" and superhero media from this world.

"Yup, my concentration is going to be in Engineering, with an emphasis on hydraulics. I was in the robotics club back in high school, and each component here would take a fortune make though. Plus, I don't think any existing material would be able to support the Megasuit design here thanks to the square cube law, unfortunately. It was fun making a big Hulkbuster type weapon though, even if it's physically impossible."

"You're really into this, aren't you? That's pretty cool" I remarked. It was really interesting how much of a pedestal civilians in Earth Samek had for capes.

"Definitely! I watched the Guardian incident live on TV you know? I even have a screenshot as a reminder that they're here. They're real, and they are walking among us. Could you imagine? There could be a person in this room right now with superpowers. If I didn't love my sci-fi robots and superheroes, my name wouldn't be Cal Stringle."

Boy was he in for a rude awakening soon. I just hope that we can get everything under control before reality came crashing down on this world.

The designs on the other hand...

"Mind if I take a picture of these?" I asked, pulling out my brand new smart phone. "I'm not kidding when I say they're really impressive. How long did you spend on them?"

"Haha go ahead. I really put a lot of thought and heart in those designs, but sadly they'd cost a fortune to make and they're pretty impractical. Hell, maybe I'll show them to Julian Moss when I get accepted to my dream internship at Celestial Reverie or Flux Motors. There's a chance he might see these and actually get off his ass to become Earth Samek's very own Tony Stark. The media already makes enough comparisons between Moss and Stark as it is, you know."

"Hey you never know what might happen. I'd definitely want to see what else you've cooked up though. This is amazing!" Holly gushed.

"He's quite a bit of a sketch artist too" I noted.

After our initial banter, we sat down and began to enjoy our lunch in earnest. The topic of discussion drifted away from capes to topics typical of small talk. Favorite foods, places we'd been, and what we thought of our professors.

We ate, we laughed, we talked, and it was...probably one of the more uncomfortable things I've had to do in a while. You really couldn't fault someone as damaged as me for putting in the effort though.

The three of us left off our trays by the dishwashers, and Cal gave us contact information. Cal happened to live in the dorm above us, and he needed to get some work down, so he saw us off at the front entrance.

"Well, so much for that. Do you still have class today, Taylor?"

"Yeah, I've actually got to get to class at the Goldman building in a couple of minutes. I stacked two interdisciplinary seminars on one day. This time it's about economics or something."

"What a bummer. Are you free this weekend, by the way? We should make plans to hang out."

"I don't think so" I answered, "but that remains to be seen. My dad is flying up here this weekend and I don't want to miss out on family time."

"Aww man, do keep me posted though."

She jumped in with her arms wide and I yelped in surprise. She...tackle hugged me? What do you even call that?

"We're going to need each other's help survive the next couple of months, you hear?" she spoke while flashing a salute and cheerful smile. "Anyway, toodle-loo!"

There was still something I had to bring up with Holly and I went our own ways for the day though.

"Hey Holly, before you go... I've been trying to get in contact with Grant Summers since last night, but he hasn't been answering his phone. Any idea what's up with him? I need to get him the notes for our chemistry lab"

She shook her head, "Sorry, I haven't seen him since last night. Frankly I'm a little bit worried."

"Any idea where he went?" I asked, stomach already clenching for fear of what she was about to say next.

"I don't know, but I saw him walk out as I was coming to class with a whole bunch of weird gear, come to think of it. I think he had...a Swiss army knife, a camera, and something that looked like a mini taser? Makes me wonder what he could be doing with those. I'll let him know you're looking for him when I see him though."

All I could do in response was stare out at the sky in exasperation.

What the hell was Grant getting himself into?

-ooo-

 **Professor Leonard Rubin**

Professor Leonard Rubin strolled up towards the homely saloon style double doors up ahead. It was the entrance to The Brew, one of his favorite places to sit down and relax with an espresso between his lengthy lectures. Until he could move on to his bigger, _more glamorous_ extra-curriculars at least.

"Hey brother, spare a smoke for The Duke?"

Leo glanced at the homeless man and quickened his pace, entering The Brew. It was sparsely populated in the afternoon, and he could already feel himself sinking into the comfortable leather massage chairs.

"Oh come on. A quick hello will do!" the vagrant shouted at Leo's back.

Leo glanced over at the mo-hawked barista he'd come to associate with an excellent coffee, and he wove through the crowd towards his caffeine fix.

Suddenly, he collided into a woman turning a corner with her own drink in hand.

"Crap" they both uttered at the same time as fiery hot droplets splashed over their clothes.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry" Leo apologized, as his eyes moved up to her body.

Huh.

The woman had a homely beauty that he'd not seen since his high school sweetheart had taken a dive off the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a beauty of strength and intellectual fortitude that would go unappreciated in the bar and club scene.

"Ow that's hot" the woman commented.

"Not the only thing that's hot here" Leo blurted out.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Smooth, Rubin.

"I apologize miss, you are just...very pleasing to my sensitivities. Do you Zumba?"

The woman blinked, then pushed past him out of the coffee shop.

A cackling by the couches turned his attention, and he turned his attention to his friend and partner in crime, Mattheus Reis sitting back on the couch sipping a cappuccino with a shit-eating grin.

"Who... was that?" Leo mumbled numbly.

"Took you long enough, my friend. I was beginning to think you swung for the other team! She's been in here pretty frequent lately, heard her dad was top dog at some holding company and got offed in a weird shooting out in Jersey, giving her control of the company."

Orianna Castillo, huh?


	23. Turbulence 2-7

**Disclaimer:** Blah blah blah, Worm is the property of Wildbow, aka John McCrae. I don't own Worm, but I do own the OCs here.

A/N: As usual, reviews are appreciated, but try to keep the flames on a low :).

Anyway, here we go!

* * *

 **Turbulence 2.7**

 **[Tuesday, September 2nd, 2014. 5:17 P.M]**

 **Mattheus**

An hour or two after Matt finished busting Leo's chops for his blatant, blubbering attraction to the business executive, he found himself leaving the coffee house and hailing a cab uptown to Harlem.

He stopped in front of a relatively desolate public housing complex, putting on a ski mask. Then, he made his way over to a remote back alley.

The back alley was desolate, as alleys tend to be. Although he could hear noise coming from the houses on either side, Matt felt like he was alone. The first few times he walked this path, he was anxious and uncertain. He was better now - the practice had numbed his fear. However, the tattoos underneath his t-shirt still coiled in response to his emotions.

Harlem had a reputation for its less than savory inhabitants, but Matt knew it was largely undeserved. Unlike the outskirt rougher neighborhoods like the South Bronx and various parts of East New York, Harlem's criminal culture had a level of civility to it.

There was a sort begrudging agreement between the local set of the Brims and the various Hispanic gangs that operated out of East Harlem and Washington Heights to avoid tripping over each other's toes, although the knives and guns did break out occasionally.

And when they did, Matt, or "Stitches" as he was known, was one of the few street docs the Brims called on. He felt guilty at times, taking money from lowlives and thugs. However, he really needed the cash. His shitty position as a research assistant at NYU Langone Hospital and his "Cape Fighting" project with Leo were hardly enough to pay the bills in a city like New York, after all.

Turning a corner, Matt found the dimly lit building. The crumbling stoop sagged beneath his feet. The three-story apartment building resembled most others in the block - run down and nearly condemned. A spare piece of two-by-four supported the gutter, and plywood covered the front window. Absentee landlords only cared that their tenements were filled and rent checks came in. Home maintenance wasn't a high priority for an owner living in another country entirely.

Matt tried pushing the door - they usually preferred him to just walk in, and make as little noise as possible. His heart would always pause as he pushed against the knob. That night the door was locked. Knocking, he waited for an answer, hoping that something big hadn't gone down tonight.

The first few house calls terrified the young medical researcher. The very thought of botching a surgery surrounded by armed gangsters would intimidate even the most experienced doctors, and Matt was far from experienced. However, gunshot wounds were generally routine: numb them, pull the slug, stitch the wound. Easy money. Days became weeks and months, and the Brims had come to an understanding, knowing that he would do his job right and not rat as long as he was paid. They had also become a lot more forgiving when their members _did_ pass despite his best efforts.

The door cracked open, only as far as the security chain would allow, and a voice whispered from behind the door.

"What do you want?"

"It's Stitches." Matt declared, keeping his voice low. "You guys called?" He held up his bag as identification.

The door slammed shut and rattled for a moment, before the door opened, letting him inside.

"Thanks for coming, Stitches."

"It's my job" _Amongst several others,_ "Where is he?"

Matt noted the various sized shoes in the safehouse. The thought of children growing up surrounded by such violence and squalor was sickening, although Matt recognized the hypocrisy in his judgment. His own parents, first generation immigrants from Brazil, had worked their fingers to the bones to provide him with the resources to live a socially upstanding life, one that he threw away by "taking a leave" on his studies in his last year of medical school. It kept his parents in a state of delusion, but Matt knew the truth. It was his third year out, and he could not find the motivation to go back to school and finish medical school.

The man nodded down a hall lined with closed doors. Matt walked down the hall, absently fingering at the survival knife he carried in his pant leg.

Once, someone jumped him for the morphine he had smuggled, and he barely made it out. But that was near the beginning of his "career" as 'Stitches'. and Matt now trusted in his reputation. Someone with his talent and ethical nuance was a rare and valued asset on the streets, and whatever they were, most officers that survived more than a month weren't stupid. No sane Capo, from any of the gangs that operated up here, would ruin a relationship with a competent street surgeon.

He passed through the living room. There were well over a dozen bodies sprawled across the crackhouse, filling couches and nearly every inch of the floor. They were frozen in time. Fucking drug addicts.

Although Matt experienced the same scene several times a month, it still unnerved him. His host was an enormous middle-aged black man in a bloody red tank top and sagging jeans, and the man grimly led him to a bedroom in the back of the building.

Through the open door, Matt saw three men laid out on beds, all of them impressive specimens for human beings. Two of them clearly had multiple gunshot wounds, but it was the one on the right that caught his attention.

He was clutching his left arm, and a red bandanna served as a half-assed tourniquet. The patient was propped up on a pile of pillows, resting on a sofa, with a familiar grimace on his face. A child, no more than five years old, slept soundly against his chest, with dried tear-stains trailing down his cheeks. _This sort of scene never made it onto television._

Matt approached, slowly. He'd been doing this long enough to expect the worst. Wounded animals were unpredictable. Ones with mysterious injuries and multiple gunshot wounds even moreso.

"What happened here?" he asked. But the wounded man was unresponsive. He stared up at the ceiling, a wild look in his eyes. He was clearly in shock.

"Those two were lit up by Italians" his host answered. "Thankfully the Big Boss told us to expect shit to hit the fan, so we got away with our skins mostly intact. Terrance there though...he dialed for help and we found him in an alley downtown. Drove him back up here in a taco truck."

It was odd, hearing the man who was geriatric by gang standards speak without any of the exaggerated street vernacular he was accustomed to. Matt bet his money that the man standing in front of him was the leader of the Set.

Matt picked up the sleeping child and settled him in a recliner on the other side of the room. Returning to his patient, he cut away what was left of the man's shirt with a pair of scissors, and the injuries made him flinch in surprise. The man looked like he'd been mauled by a wild animal.

A hand shot up and grabbed Matt by the collar, startling him and causing him to drop his scissors.

"T-hat that thing….it attacked me." Matt took hold of the man's arm and replaced it by his side. The man's eyes looked through Matt to some unknown horror beyond.

"It's OK, man. It's me, Stitches, and I'm here to help you. How did you get these injuries?" The man nodded, and bit his lip.

"That thing…"

Matt's body relaxed. History and experience instructed him that he would be fine. He's hallucinating. Probably self-medicated before Matt had arrived. But his patient returned to his comatose state and wasn't answering any more questions. He took a moment to inspect the claw marks - there was a first time for everything, and Matt wondered how the man came by it. The failed med student pulled a needle out of his bag and drew something from a vial.

"This will numb you up nicely"

The man remained passive as he received the shot, and soon, Matt set about disinfecting the gangster's wounds and stitching him up. The man had been in pretty bad shape, but he was going to live. Still, it disturbed Matt that the more he worked at the man, the more he realized that he was looking at bite and claw marks from some kind of _creature_ and not any fancy knifework. The other two were pretty standard patch jobs for what he did for the Brims and Latin gangs - search, disinfect, yank, stitch.

"Here you go, Stitches" the host approached him, handing him an envelope. "You do good work, kid."

Matt wasn't proud of his source of income, but it made possible his research, which would change the world. And if it weren't for him, this man's wound would surely get infected, and he'd probably not make it. Didn't he deserve help? Matt could never tell if he believed that or if the justification made it easier. Fifteen minutes later he left the broken-down house with twenty five Benjamins sitting in his pocket.

It was easy money, but why did he feel such a sense of unease?

-ooo-

 **[Tuesday, September 2nd, 2014. 5:43 P.M]**

 **Jon  
**  
I moved quickly, stalking forward towards Alex as he stood at the center of the room. My vision was colored with an ashen-gray hue, and I could feel Alex's heartbeat thrum steadily as I edged in closer.

The difference between our ability was clear to me even now. Where I was totally tense in anticipation and subconsciously holding my breath, Alex's entire body was relaxed, and he had a remarkable amount of control over his breathing. He stood loosely, bouncing on the balls of his feet and ready to strike out at a threat at a moment's notice.

Fortunately for me, we were sparring with powers and equipment on this time. As useful and versatile as his power was, invisibility and silence was just plain unfair when the other guy was just as squishy as you. I could finally pay him back for all those fun little ass beatings he called 'training time'.

Then again, I was the one who wanted the training in the first place. Ah, whatever.

We both knew I could only maintain my power for a short duration of time before my nerves started spazzing out. For that reason, we were practicing using the power in short bursts as a workound to my problem.

I maneuvered my way behind him and brandished my blunted ceramic knife, lunging at him with the knife aimed at the back of his heart.

I felt a brief twitch of his muscles, and suddenly I found myself sailing back ten feet in the air. I landed on the floor with a hard smack, which knocked the wind out of my lungs. I coughed and spat, tasting copper in my mouth as the gray hue dissipated, and the warehouse faded into a familiar dim glow.

"Balls" I grumbled, climbing back to my feet. "How the fuck did you do that?"

Alex withdrew his foot from the side-kick he'd thrown, before turning to face me with a mischievous grin.

"I'll let you know if you can land a solid hit on me" he answered, beckoning me towards him.

I glared at him, activating my power again and splitting an illusory copy over my current position.

I wound up a few feet to his left, invisible. I took the opportunity to charge at him through the silent aura of my gray cloak.

 _-Thump-_

My instincts screamed in primal panic as I felt Alex's muscles contract, and I pulled my weight back to halt my stride inches away from striking him.

Just in time, too - Alex snapped his palm straight up where my sternum would have been, missing me by a hair. The momentary respite ended when he continued to step into the strike, throwing out a full powered roundhouse kick at thigh level, cutting my leg out from under me.

I felt a brief lurch as I felt an arm wrap around my neck and, and I was tossed into the air with a perfectly executed throw.

Alex followed up, jumping into the air with a push of his power and front flip, orienting himself about twelve feet over me. His elbow was pointed straight down towards where I was cloaked, and he turned to his side.

Oh hell fucking no.

I knew he was holding back. He could have easily followed up with a much more efficient and less flashy attack. Even if he wanted to pull off a cherry-tapping finisher like this, Alex could've easily pushed and pulled with his power to drop on me in the blink of an eye. Instead, he let gravity do its job, allowing himself to fall directly on top of me in a spinning elbow drop.

I had two options, I could either dodge out of the way like any sane, reasonable human being would, or...

I made my decision at the speed of a thought. Fuck it. It was totally going to be worth it.

I scrambled to my feet and sent a pulse through the link, causing his torso to orient towards me and his elbow to spasm out of place as he fell. I winced as my left arm and upper back went numb, but it was a necessary sacrifice to pull this maneuver off.

Just as I felt my left side snap back, I steadied myself and brought my right arm up, chambering it with determination.

I jumped, throwing my fist out and shouting out the name of my ultimate move.

"SHOOOOOOOORYUKEN!"

I felt his chest give out a satisfying crack as my fist sank right between his ribs. Yeah I know, in hindsight I cringed a little too, but I really couldn't help myself there. How many times does a guy get into a situation where he can set up a flipping shoryuken?

...

Well uh, here's the unfortunate thing about physics.

Big things that are in motion tend to stay in motion, and when you hit something hard, it hits you back just as hard.

If this were a fighting game or some sort of action movie, he would've been launched across the room, or something like that.

Sadly enough, I was living in well, real life.

Instead of getting launched away, Alex kind of flopped off my fist, and I stumbled forward from the impact because hey, I was a dumbass and compromised my balance by jumping. He latched onto my arm and spun sideways, dragging us both messily to the ground as he fell.

Half a second later, I felt myself slam shoulder first into the ground, and Alex immediately took control of my body from the side. The blow of the impact knocked me out of my power again, and my temple thrummed with pain as I felt the side effects of my power set in. I felt a pressure sink on my chest as Alex leaned over with my right arm trapped under one of his enormous arms.

"Nice hit...*huff* but seriously? _Shoryuken_? Are you fucking kidding me?" he gasped, taking a moment to wheeze and catch his breath while using his dominant position to deprive me of air.

I bridged my hips upwards just like he'd shown me, throwing off his balance off for a second while sliding to the side. He followed me, leaning in closer, before roughly driving a knee into my kidney from his dominant grappling position. He drove his knee back again as I was winded, and threw his knee up to posture his weight directly over the center of my belly.

He spun with my arm still locked beneath his armpit, and dropped backwards. My arm had been caught between his legs, and I resisted the arm lock by curling my (comparatively) puny biceps against his legs.

Yeah, fat chance of my arms winning out against the hips of a guy who could deadlift a thousand pounds without tool assistance.

I activated my power and reached out to the hurricane of _possibilities_ that appeared, replacing myself with a clone. My perspective flipped as I found myself randomly moved about ten feet behind Alex.

Alex wrenched not-me's arm back, and the clone disappeared in a puff of white ash. He immediately rolled sideways to push off a one-handed headstand, and landed on his feet.

"I'm getting real tired of this Naruto shit" Alex growled, settling into another fighting stance.

I huffed and puffed, trying to catch my breath in my invisibility aura. It was pretty counterproductive, since keeping my power on at all made me feel like I was sprinting uphill at full speed.

I narrowed my eyes - how the hell was Alex tracking me through my power?

I pulled on my power, summoning a clone-shade thingamabob to attack him from behind, causing him to turn around as it ran at him screaming. I cringed as a jolt of pain ran through the center of my skull. There was no way I could keep this up for much longer.

I felt a surge of hope as Alex threw a counter hook to the clone's wild swing instead of reacting to my move. I bent over, flipping one of the three polymer knives we'd been training out of my belt and catching it by the tip.

The clone ran in, grabbing Alex and stabbing in with a low thrust and Alex met the thrust head on with the forearm of his plated gauntlet, smacking the illusory knife out of the clone's hand. The clone disappeared in a puff of white smoke from the impact, and as Alex flinched in surprise, I shifted my weight and threw the blunted knife at his back with a flick of my wrist.

It was really amazing how well a circus trick translated into a combat situation. With him distracted by my clone, my knife was sure to slam off the back of his chest plate, symbolizing a kill.

Alex's body tensed up a moment after I released the weapon, and the knife whistled through the air in a fraction of a second.

...Then it bounced harmlessly off some sort of invisible surface.

Well, at least I could say that I made him up his game a little and _actually_ use his goddamn powers for real.

Alex whirled around immediately after the knife's impact on the shield, heartbeat racing.

How the fuck was he tracking me?

I took a step towards him, then another, and suddenly, my right leg snagged on something and I stumbled forward. I hopped on my left leg, trying to halt my momentum as my concentration broke and color returned to my vision. My weight carried me forward about three more steps as I tried to re-balance, and on the last hop, my shin collided with another invisible object causing me to fly into the air.

I threw my forearms vertically in front of me to break my fall, as I had drilled repeatedly over the last two weeks. I 'oophed' as I slammed stomach-first into something that felt like an invisible bar, causing me to flip forward and slam onto my back.

The next thing I knew, I heard a crackle of electricity, and I looked up to see a stun gun inches away from my face, held in Alex's plated hand. He stared at me expectantly from behind a glowing visor. That visor was ridiculously creepy in the dark with his navigation light activated, although I knew that it was the point - it added a certain intimidation factor to his figure, which was well, already scary as shit.

"Alright, alright!" I raised my arms in a gesture of surrender. "You got me, big guy."

-ooo-

Lifting weights, running, martial arts training, eating Alex's delicious home cooked meals, and lessons about the city's underworld. These activities took up most of my days over the past two weeks.

I tossed a single training knife in the air, lost in my thoughts as I took a short break from my work. We'd finished cleaning up after our daily training sessions, and it was crunch time. Alex was reviewing police evidence that had been forwarded to us in the wake of Thomas Summers disappearance, while Val tapped away with a visor our her head. She was synced up with her Skynet AI thingie, doing whatever super cyberpunk hacker shit they did every night.

That left me to look over their personal notes and files on things they'd done over the last year and a half. It felt like the further we got while digging for clues, the more questions we had cropping up.

I'd always tried to be a decent guy and all, but I still didn't think it was smart of Alex and Val to trust me so readily. Even if they pulled off a ridiculously thorough background check on me, there was always the possibility that I was just some conniving sociopath waiting to stab them in their backs.

Thankfully I wasn't. I couldn't resist my quips and overt trolling, but I wasn't stupid, and I did have a sense of honor. I owed a life debt to these two, and I wasn't ever going to sell them out.

Alex struck me as the type of guy who looked for the best in people. From what I could tell, he was a powerhouse but he definitely wasn't just a meathead. He was an idealist and a man who fully recognized the symbolic nature of his status. However, from what I'd seen behind the person he'd established on camera, Alex was just a guy who had a big heart, and found himself pulled deeper and deeper into the underworld as he hunted for information on a missing friend. I was pretty sure he knew how fucked up the world could be sometimes.

That had been made clear by the files I had in front of me, which recorded some of the fucked up shit Alex and Val had seen as they started delving into the city's underworld. All of the city's criminals were fucked up, and there was a disturbing number of collusion between the New York underworld to the alphabet soup government agencies and some more notable corporations.

However, it was even worse when there wasn't some sort of mega-collusion going on. The worst cases were just people being shitty in general. One file had consistently made my stomach churn every time I saw it, and it was a case I couldn't help going back to it over and over in a vomit-inducing sort of way.

A few months into his superhero career, Alex had written about an encounter with the "Silver Dawn" - a doomsday cult halfway between Scientology and the Peoples' Temple. It was standard Jim Jones bullshit - they believed that the end was nigh, and that their time of ascension was on hand. A golden man popping out of a hole in reality and barbecuing the world kind of vindicated their beliefs.

Alex had been looking into a massive Valium purchase from the cartels heading out to Huntington, Long Island. He'd had a hunch that something big going down, and infiltrated their commune by hiding underneath the drug convoy. Lo and behold, what did he find?

A bunch of shitheads wearing silver robes, who ceremonially put a rich teenaged Japanese-American girl through some major _hardcore_ shit. Ritual rape and sacrifice, the details of which I'll leave up to the imagination.

Suffice to say, there were a lot of broken bones when the feds arrived at the scene, but surprisingly no fatalities. It was out-of-the-way shit like that which made me respect those two.

You'd like think there would be more people abusing superpowers for blatant self gain, but these guys acted like classic superheroes straight out of a comic book. I was going to try very hard not to fuck things up for them.

It was funny, you know. Most people would say that two weeks was barely enough to get to know someone, but I was really starting to feel attached to my..."team". Being around Alex and Val, and getting holy fuck - _Superhero_ training was like a waking dream after months of nightmarish captivity. Even Taming-Sari, the extinction event just waiting to happen was starting to rub off on me.

Then there was Taylor. Taylor had only dropped by once, and I'd barely gotten to talk her at all. Even though she was introverted and quiet, and mentally fragile from the Scion bullshit, she honestly gave me the creeps. She always has this sort of thousand yard stare, which reminded me of the old WW2 and Korean War veteran that used to live up the block. It was the look of someone who'd seen too much.

 _And she's right around my age_. I thought numbly, twirling my knife. Earth Bet must have been a real fucked up place. Sending kids into battle against a godlike being? Then again, when Superman Prime goes nuts and genocidal on the fucking _multiverse_ , you kind of want all hands on deck. Even though most of the X-men and Avengers would realistically just be cannon fodder, it was better than nothing. Who knows, maybe it was a minor power no-one'd heard of that finally turned the tide against the golden freak.

Yeah, fat fat chance of that happening, but it couldn't hurt to have bodies there to soak up some hits.

 _Speak of the devil_ , I thought as I glanced towards the CCTV network.

Taylor was walking up towards the warehouse with a large gym bag in hand.

Trailing away from the thought, I spun in my chair, picking up a framed photo of Val, Alex, with some vaguely hispanic-looking kid. They were holding assorted circuit boards and power tools, and there was a plaque in the background that said Tribeca West High School Robotics Club'. I was a transplant from Philly, but even I knew Tribeca West was a high school kids got into through application, and only the smartest kids in the city went there.

I focused my gaze on "Bobby Kunhold" the missing friend they got into this shit to hunt down. He was fairly tall and lanky, and reminded me of that one mascot Burger King used to have with his soldering goggles, dirty blonde hair, and Yankees cap.

I shuddered, wondering if he was going through the same bullshit I did over the last couple of months. There was some really creepy shit out there, and I knew from first-hand experience.

"So Alex, about earlier..." I finally broke the silence.

"What's up?" he answered while clicking away with his mouse. He was totally focused on the computer screen and doing his job.

"How WERE you able to track me when I was invisible?"

He smiled slyly, and stomped his food on the ground, which resonated with a metal "clang".

"Well, remember how I told you my control over my power is dependent on range? When I'm really close to a power source for my ability, I can sense the metallic bonds in the floor vibrating. We're talking maybe a twenty to twenty five meter radius. It's subtle enough that it wouldn't be any good if you caught me off guard, but I could abuse it in our spar because I was actively looking for someone quiet and invisible."

Oh...what? That's...

"Oh come on! That's fucking bullshit. So it's not enough that you can make out shapes with your 'third eye' like a maphack, but you can sense clusters of metal vibrating when people walk on them?"

"Pot. Kettle" he replied nonchalantly. "It isn't really all that different from your ability to sync up with people and feel what they feel."

"Fair enough" I accepted, going back to work with a small frown.

The entrance door to the main area clicked, and Taylor walked in through the door.

"Evenin' sunshine" I greeted her perkily. I received an eyebrow-raise in response.

Sheesh, ice queen much?

"Hello" she finally replied, walking up to the bench area to address us all. "Any luck with Tom, guys?"

"Hey Taylor" Alex grunted, still engrossed with whatever he was doing at the computer. "No luck yet."

Val shook her head, similar zoned out. "Gone without a trace. Thomas Summers is like Truesight - an actual superpowered cape hiding in plain sight as an RLSH. He went out for a walk and... bam, gone. Just like that. No sightings since then. Fuck, there HAS to be something on one of the traffic cameras, but Michelle tells me they stay in Brooklyn when they do patrol shifts."

A terrible thought occurred, "Maybe it's the same people who kidnapped me off the streets?" I suggested.

Val nodded, "Not too far of a stretch, we'll need to do some legwork."

"And that..." Taylor started hesitantly, "Is why I'm here. I know Tom's brother from school, and I'm pretty sure he's skipping class to do sleuth work.

She sighed resignedly, "I'd like to get this taken care of before he gets in over his head, and I'm going to join in on the search. Anyone care to help me with this bag?"

Now THAT piqued my interest, and Alex's too, judging from how he reacted. He finally stopped whatever he was doing at his laptop, and stepped out of his chair. He walked over to pick up the bag like it weighed nothing at all and placed it on the bench.

"No way..." Alex murmured, apparently realizing what was inside. "Taylor, do you really want to..."

Freaky metal sense. The suspense was killing me.

Taylor just saddled up next to him, and unzipped it in one pull. A small puff of dust swelled in the air and dispersed, and Taylor reached her arm in to pull at a piece of fabric. She grunted in frustration as she struggled to pull it out, and Alex moved in to help.

Together, they pulled out a bodysuit and set it to the side. Then, Taylor reached in and pulled out a modified handgun, a can of pepper spray, and what looked like a high-tech folding knife.

"Holy shit" I blurted out, sweeping my eyes over the costume.

It was a black bodysuit with white chitinous armor panels and lenses. There were visible compartments stashed here and there, and the panels seemed to shimmer under the dim lighting in an eerily beautiful fashion. The bodysuit had a mantle around the shoulders with some sort of machinery below it, and a sigil of an upside-down beetle hung from the belt.

I had to be honest when I said it looked unbelievably _badass._ The costume looked like it'd been haphazardly put back together, and it was still covered in stains of blood and dirt from whenever it'd last been used.

Finally, I noted that the costume's right arm was missing from the bicep down. A chill rain down my spine, and I hoped the implications were clear to everyone here.

"Taylor, this...fuck. What?" Alex stammered.

She breathed deeply, then spoke with a hard look in her eyes.

"You heard me. I'm back in for this search. I was hoping you guys could find a way to..." she traced a finger over the strange mechanism below the mantle. "Fix this."

There it was. In one instant, she looked like this withdrawn, vulnerable, dog who'd taken too many beatings, and then suddenly, there was just pure _fire_ in her eyes.

"I...I don't know. The tech looks freakishly complicated." Alex glanced over at Val expectantly, who proceeded to _bounce_ over. Man, that girl was a total tech geek. She was eyeing the device like filet mignon!

"It's tinkertech isn't it, Taylor?!" Val exclaimed, practically gushing. "I'd like to meet the person who designed this thing. Does it - is it?Wow, it looks like a rocket pack!"

"Even better" Taylor answered with a rare smile, "It's an anti-gravity flight mechanism. Don't ask me how it works though."

Needless to say, we were all impressed by the ridiculously cool costume Taylor pulled out of nowhere. I walked over, entranced, and picked up the high tech folding knife as they looked over the costume. It had a similar sigil as the one on Taylor's costume, and seemed to be neatly locked together.

I flipped the knife over, and flicked the only visible switch.

"Wait, careful with that!" Taylor shouted out, finally noticing me walk over.

It thrummed violently, and a gray cloud burst forth as the top of the knife slid away. I yelped in surprise, dropping it in and the gray cloud thing proceeded to spin and _shredded_ straight through the work bench, before flipping and skidding to land on the side, taking a gash out of the bench in the process.

Holy fuck, what?

"Sorry" I cringed sheepishly, looking down and averting Taylor's death glare, which I felt boring into the back of my head.

Alex stared numbly at the 'knife' as it spun on the ground.

The four of us just looked at each other in turn.

An awkward silence hung in the air.

"What." Alex finally deadpanned.

...

 **"Achoo!"**

...And that was Taylor.


	24. Turbulence 2-8

**Turbulence 2.8**

A/N: Sorry it took the better part of three months to push this out. Life just kind of...caught up on me :P. Plus there was a whole thing with my laptop imploding on me.

Anyway, check out my other stories "Convergence Theory" and "Shattered Worlds" at SB/SV if you haven't done so already. Please R&R as usual.

* * *

 **[Wednesday, September 3rd, 2014. 5:46 A.M]**

 **Mark**

It was the break of dawn, and a thin layer of mist hovered in the air, obscuring Mark's vision as he drove. He brushed a coating of fog off the windshield, grumbling in half-satisfaction as he pulled up behind the dimly-let alley. Shuddering slightly from the chilly morning air, Mark stepped out of the driver's seat. Three guards followed his lead, piling out of the rear of the car moments after.

The three soldiers formed a protective perimeter around the vehicle as Mark walked around the car to open the passenger door.

"Cmon boss, we're here."

Tomas Moretti gave him an affirming nod and grunt, before looking up from his smartphone and stepping out of the passenger's seat. With a flick of his fingers, Antonio Bozzelli's right-hand man tossed his cigarette onto the curb.

Turning around to walk down the alley with his boss in tow, Mark tensed nervously as he suddenly heard a loud snarl. Furious barking echoed down the alley, and red eyes glared out from within the alleyway, and Mark backed up in fear. A primal panic ran through his body as a black shape darted out from the darkness, teeth bared and snarling.

...Only to be yanked back by a chain, inches away from leaving Mark with a lovely new set of stitches.

"Sorry Mister Moretti, blood's still pumping in this one" a voice grunted down the dimly lit alleyway.

Moretti's visage narrowed, poring deeply into the handler's eyes.

"I _suggest_ you take greater care minding your dogs in the future, Lawrence" Moretti replied sharply. Moretti's heavy Bensonhurst Brooklyn accent always made Mark smile when he caught the boss scolding his underlings.

The man in front of them gulped, before yanking roughly on the chain. The black pitbull snarled, yelped, then whimpered as Lawrence dragged it towards a post.

"Miserable little mutt" Lawrence chastised while chaining the pitfighter to a post. "Where was all that fight an hour ago, huh?!"

Moretti fixed the lapels on his suit, and calmly strode towards the back door. Falling in line behind his Boss along with the grunts, Mark followed him closely as the sound of indistinct chattering filled the air.

"Mister Moretti" a bouncer greeted at the door. Mark swore his name was John, or something like that but it wasn't his job to remember names. "Marcus."

"Place still smells like piss" Mark remarked, grimacing in disgust.

"There's a pot calling a kettle black if I've ever seen one" the guard grinned. "Come on, they're all waiting for you both inside."

Stepping inside behind Moretti, Mark coughed, gagging slightly on the hazy odor of feces, blood, and cigar smoke that wafted from the garage behind the bar. Little Italy had been short-lived as an Italian-American neighborhood, but it was still a sign of symbolic importance between the families to operate here.

If you asked Mark, it was a bit of a waste to use prime real estate like the garage of a historical pub for something like a dog fighting ring. But hey, he was a button and a clipper not a businessman. That kind of stuff was for people like Moretti and the capos to decide.

Entering the room, Mark was immediately greeted by a cacophony of chatter as a collection of the Family's power players greeted each other in their immaculately tailored suits. Mark swept his eyes across the room out of habit. Although he was as secure as he could be in a meeting like this, with dozens of mob soldiers posted around the block, it was a good habit to have.

The curtains were down, and the "Closed" sign was turned to face outwards. Not surprisingly, the stools at the bar were relatively empty - most of the room's inhabitants were crowding around a circle of tables for the meeting. As his gaze traced over the top shelf, the bartender looked up from the tap to meet his eyes.

Excusing himself for a second, Mark strode across the room.

"Evenin' Frankie" he muttered.

"Heyyy if it ain't old Marcus himself. How's the view between Moretti's legs nowadays?"

Marcus glared at the bartender, "Yeah, fuck you too Frankie."

The two stared at each other for a second with narrowed eyes, before breaking their postures and roaring with laughter.

"S'all good Frankie. It's good to see you too. Whaddya make of all this?"

"Well" Frankie trailed, pouring him some beer from tap. "Ya didn't hear it from me, but the bosses are pretty spooked even though they're acting tough. Powered freaks popping up left and right, attacking our guys and more importantly our wallets while they're at it. We ain't got none of that muscle ourselves _yet_ , and the upstart who wants to start beef with Bozzelli personally ain't helping either."

Mark bit his lip at the response. Since RICO passed in the 70s, La Cosa Nostra had made an effort to lay low shuffle most of their illicit gains over the years into "legitimate" and "semi-legitimate" enterprises. Casinos, union lobbying, freighting, food, and peer to peer loans were just a few legal enterprises that drove billions per year to the organization's coffers. However, even though the Families were no longer at the height of their power and they took care to tread carefully, they were still _not_ a collective group you could fuck with and walk away from intact.

To cross the line from "Associate" to "Made Man", you had to show you were willing to do what it takes to defend the system. In most cases...it was landing the finishing "touch" on someone who'd made the grave mistake of crossing the local Family's jurisdiction. It was an unspoken truth that if you crossed the mob, you paid the price, whatever it was. End of story.

The Bozzelli crime syndicate, the most powerful of the Seven - well, now Six Families, had its fingers just deep enough in city politics and logistics that they'd been nigh-untouchable from encroachment. A large number of important officials in city politics were in their collective pocket, ranging from Union Leaders to House Representatives, State Senators, and City Councilmen. At several occasions, the families collectively controlled the Mayor of New York City himself, and sometimes even senators. The American mafia may have not been nearly as powerful as it was in the mid-20th century, and Retaliation wasn't as overt and poignant. However, crossing the mob was usually the last mistake anyone ever made. That two-bit street thug was playing a dangerous game, and Mark was certain he'd regret it pretty soon.

Although if you asked Mark, it was honestly surprising that it took over a year for the players on the board to make big moves against them, as dangerous as it was. The golden-dicked fucker had clipped a good number of their members up the chain, and it was a small consolatory prize that the Russians were hurting even more from the Golden Morning, or else the power grab would have been even nastier. Luckily enough, it was just a half-baked nigger trying to show his teeth and not the Bratva.

"Anyway, what can I getcha?"

"Just a Gin and Tonic, Frankie. A Negroni for Moretti."

Mark looked back towards the round table at the center of the room while waiting for Frankie to finish making the drinks. A number of representatives from the Families in the city were seated around the table, about three dozen strong, but thankfully not a lot of major talking heads. It was Bozzelli's personal suggestion that the higher-ups from the other groups sent representatives in the know where possible instead of coming personally, and people were usually respectful enough to heed his strategic advice.

The recent assassination of Don Gerardo Di Muzio in Atlantic City and his inner circle was foreboding - enemies were emerging from the woodwork faster than they could follow, and you could never be too paranoid. Some had followed the suggestion, while evidently others had not. A couple of bigwigs were standing and shaking hands with Moretti, no doubt trying to curry favor with the Underboss.

Ever the talented mixologist, Frankie finished the drinks in no time at all and handed a pair of glasses to Mark. Giving Frankie a nod, Mark took the glasses and walked back over to Moretti, handing him the Negroni.

Without a word, Mark took his place by the table as Moretti began to speak.

"A word before we begin, gentlemen. This is a night of somber reflection, and a time for us to discuss the states of the Families."

He raised his glass with a sharp but regal flourish, and the men seated around the table returned the gesture.

"Most of our families came here generations ago as nothing more than simple laborers and seamstresses, fleeing the turmoil of our motherland. Our ancestors struggled to survive, burdened by the overwhelming weight of discrimination and poverty, but still they dared to have hopes and dreams."

Moretti stopped to take a short sip from his drink.

"I see a number of young faces in this group tonight, so you might not all fully understand. There was a time, in days past, when we _owned_ this city, completely and wholly. Not only that, but we owned every damned city worth mentioning from coast to coast. That is, until we'd made the mistake of drawing the ire and attention of the feds. It has been long since we've slunk back into the shadows, but make no mistake; Our hands are stained with less blood than our predecessors, but it's more than enough to carry the burdens of an empire. This week, a man has declared war on Antonio Bozzelli. He's made it _personal_."

"And what does this have to do with us?" A voice drawled from the far end of the table.

Moretti shook his head slightly, before throwing his arms up in exasperation. " _'What does this have to do with us?'_ he asks. Kid, when were you born?"

"'89," was the response. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he really was a kid.

"Kid, you're with the Genovanese aren't you?" The young man arched an eyebrow but nodded in affirmation regardless.

"In the early 90s the Bozzelli family ran sanitation in western Nassau out on the island past Queens. You were maybe 3 years old at the time when Big Sal retired with his wife in Wyandanch."

The kid's eyes lit up with a bit of recognition.

Big Sal was one of the Genovanese Soldiers who kept a lot of the inter-family tension under wraps and prevented a fair bit of bloodshed back in those days. Mark could still remember the giant man's firm but ultimately fair presence. Which was to say... he made peace by being the meanest motherfucker at the table, but he rarely needed it. His voice had a deep, bass timber that could just make you shut up and listen.

"Some fuckin' Latin Kings spic was trying to touch up the place, and well, Sal's wife, she's handy with a rolling pin." A few of the older Genovanese guys laughed. They probably were on the receiving end of Valerie's pin more than once. "Sicilian women. Anyway, she chased the prick out, and that should've been the end of it. Instead, the punk gets two of his buddies and a head full of dust. They come back, kill the both Sal and his wife and fuck up the place. Even shot the damned cat."

Moretti looked back at the kid. He had long since sat back down, and everybody had to have known where Moretti was taking this. He'd long since made his point, and now everybody listening was along for the ride.

"That didn't even happen on Bozzelli turf. We didn't have to do anything, but when the news got to us and you asked? Did we hesitate for even a _minute_ to teach those brown cocksuckers just who it is they're fucking with?"

The question was completely rhetorical, but the men around the table shook their heads anyway. "There was a clear and blatant breach in how business was supposed be done. We took care of it because at the end of the day, we share blood and our roots go back to the same soil. When the Aryan Brotherhood was acting up against the Gamborino's friends in Chicago, _everyone_ at this table took issue. When the P. stones tried touching the union rackets in Vegas, _everyone_ at this table helped put that shit down. And when that scumbag Pauli, may he fucking rot in hell, rolled over on us and sold out guys not just from the Colombo family, but the Lucchanosas and some of ours too? Leo over there personally collected."

"I still have the piss-soaked shiv in my bathroom," Leo added.

"At the end of the day, we are La Cosa Nostra. We are not to be fucked with. The history of this country teaches what happens to people who do. As of tonight, there is someone out there who doesn't yet know this."

Moretti placed his drink down, before casting another gaze over everyone present.

"We. Are going. To _educate_ those sacks of shit."

Moretti paused, likely for dramatic effect, and the room's inhabitants presented him with respectful silence.

"Now, about the death of Don Muzzio in Atlant-"

*Clap* *Clap* *Clap*

Heads around the room turned towards the sound as a sudden clapping cut through the start of Moretti's line. Mark's eyes followed, and his gaze settled on a silhouette walking into the room, standing haughtily behind two of the guards who were posted outside.

She stepped out of the shadows, and Mark could quickly see that she'd definitely put a lot of care into her wardrobe. It was a young woman wore a Victorian style black and violet dress with a masquerade mask, and the dress had more frills than Mark could count. Her raven black hair settled down halfway down her back, and her visage revealed a smirk of pure arrogance. The men standing next to her on the other hand, wore gleeful, excited expressions on their faces, as if they'd found the most interesting thing in the world.

"A magnificent speech if I do say so myself. You have a way of playing to the brown-nosed sycophants" the woman commented. "I'll admit... Thieves, murderers, and scoundrels though you may be, you are still figures of principle in a sense. Sadly, this empire and its abominable practices are a stain on our society, and you are due for some vicissitude."

"Who the fuck is this broad?" one of the representatives Moretti didn't know wondered out loud.

 _*BOOM*_

Faster than the eye could follow, Mark drew his revolver from its holster and fired the gun towards the woman's center of mass. He'd double tapped the intruder in the chest before anyone could make further comment.

Mark didn't have to bother thinking twice before making the move. He wasn't an idiot - looking out for danger and guarding his boss was his role, and it was something he was damned good at. He didn't care if she was the duchess of Manhattan.

If you walked into a secure meeting with some prominent mob lieutenants where the guards were explicitly told to drive people with way, _with said guards in tow no less_ and monologuing about how the Families were scoundrels due for some "vicissitude", whatever that meant, you were trouble. In that type of situation, Moretti would never fault him for shooting first and asking questions later. Whatever freaky bullshit she was pulling, Mark could only hope he'd stopped it before she could work it on anyone else.

The bullets shot through the air in an instant, slamming into into the woman's chest in turn. As regal as her poise was, she still looked like she couldn't have been more than five feet, four to six inches tall or weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds. With a _woosh_ , the woman flew through the air and slammed into the wall.

A shocked silence settled over the room as Mark stood up, stepping backwards and keeping his gun trained on the figure now prone on the ground.

Marcus was Moretti's triggerman but for one simple fact: Mark had saved Moretti with his quick thinking and equally quick draw speed on multiple occasions. There wasn't much that could get up from two .44 magnum rounds to the chest, but his honed instincts told him to be on guard.

The woman drew her hands together and crawled onto her feet. Silver veins spread from the point of impact, and began to flechette into the air. The silver lines narrowed, and Mark stared in surprise as the bullet he'd fired fell out of her chest and clattered onto the ground.

"Oh for fuck's sake" Mark swore, taking a step back. Whatever that woman was, he was keeping his distance. No use risking any surprises, after all.

"Ow...oh bother, now would you look at that. You've _ruined_ my dress - Do you _understand_ how much of my attention went into this embroidery you filthy **peasant**?"

Man, the girl had a way with words, that's for sure.

"Ask someone who cares, little girl" Mark remarked dryly.

He snapped his pistol up and fired again, and this time, the woman didn't go flying, but merely stumbled back as her skin and hair turned chrome silver beneath the dress.

 _ **"That...was a mistake."**_

The silver faded, and she began to dust herself off. She cracked her neck and grinned maliciously.

Mark was suddenly struck by the sense that he wanted bigger gun, and the Smith and Wesson Model 29 was a pretty big gun as it was.

"I think the present circumstances necessitate a lesson in manners and propriety. _Boys? Ready your weapons towards your associates, and prepare to teach them some manners._ "

A chorus of clanging and clicking filled the room, and Mark was confused as to what was going on. Then it hit him - most of the people close to the woman drew their weapons and aimed them across the table. Unfortunately, Tomas Moretti was one of the ones with his gun drawn.

Sweat formed on Marcus's forehead like bullets. He was definitely going to need a bigger gun.

-ooo-

 **Taylor**

 **[Wednesday, September 3rd, 2014. 11:50 A.M]**

"...and that concludes our second lecture. I will see you all next Monday."

I yawned, stretching out a little while packing my notes into my bag.

It was a real pain in the ass trying to take notes with one arm. Still , the first couple of weeks in this city had been an oddly therapeutic experience, sans all of the cape craziness that came my way of course.

Although writing with one arm was a pain in the ass, I was slowly adjusting to the university environment. Unlike during my lonely nomadic experience at three separate community colleges over the last year, I finally had people my age around me who treated me like a real human being, which was...weird.

It went without saying that I had ludicrously rough time when I was a teenager, so being treated like _normal_ was a surreal experience. I wasn't really lacking in the book smarts department when I applied myself, and I only had the chance to nourish that part of my character now.

It helped a lot that I wasn't dealing with psychopathic bullies like Sophia or a bunch of fellow child soldiers that hated my guts (hey, in hindsight, that's basically what the Wards were). Then there was the whole worrying about Jack Slash ending the world thing.

There were still quite a few awkward moments here and there adjusting to civilian life, but it was still pretty cozy.

I finished packing and slung my backpack over my arm. I still kicked myself for not having Panacea heal me over when I had the chance, but hey, I'd learned long ago that life wasn't fair. I turned my head to the side, brushing my curly locks out of my face when a familiar tuft of blond hair caught my eye.

I quickly walked up the lecture hall, before breaking out into a run. Squeezing my way around the students, I came out into the open hallway.

"Grant!" I called out.

"Huh? Taylor? Oh..." Grant turned around, weakly meeting my gaze. He had that sort of dazed look where you went multiple days without sleeping before crashing and sleeping for over ten hours straight.

"Where have you been the past two days?" I asked with concern. "I've been trying to get in touch about the lab since Monday and you haven't been answering your phone."

I already knew he'd been up to some sleuthing of his own, but he didn't have to know that I knew that.

"I've been...busy" he grumbled. "I just needed to clear my head, you know?"

"Is everything okay? You're not looking too good."

He rubbed his head with a wince, "You don't know the half of it. My brother's gone missing and my family and I have been pulling every resource we can to track him down. I was just here to drop off a note for Professor Rubin explaining my absence today actually. I crashed at 8 yesterday and just woke up like twenty minutes ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that" I replied, putting my hand on his shoulder empathetically. "Let me know if you ever need anything, alright?"

"Yeah...anyway, I'm gonna go home and catch some shut-eye, so I'll catch you later alright Taylor? I've got my phone off sleep mode now if you need anything from me."

Before I could respond, Grant turned around and walked out towards the exit, stumbling around for a second.

Well, at the very least, now I knew that Grant was safe and that nothing horrible had happened to him. He was clearly shaken by the disappearance of his brother, but hopefully we'd be able to find out what happened with a bit of time.

My phone vibrated, and I took it out of my pocket. There was a text sitting in the middle of my screen. It was from Holly.

 _'Hey! Still too busy for lunch today? I'm thinking about checking out a new place by Astor Place.'_

Hmm. Should I? Ah well, I think I deserved it. I'd only been in this city for a couple of days and I've already been shot at and mugged enough times for one life time.

 _'Sure, when/where?'_ I replied, flushing a little. The casual texting still kind of felt strange to me.

 _'We'll figure it out. Meet me by the arch in 10!'_ she responded.

I hummed to myself, walking the short distance over to the Washington Square arch. Although the media in both Earth Bet and Samek loved to portray New York City as some sort of steel-laden metropolis, the city really did have its share quaint, rustic little neighborhoods. The Village area which served as New York University's campus really fit the bill.

Despite the visible chipping and destruction that occasionally marred the buildings here, lower Manhattan really was just a really beautiful place to be in. Back in Brockton Bay, it always felt like there was this mellow miasma hanging over it, but this city was just... vibrant and alive. The citizens here had their share of scars, but there still seemed to be an aura of hope that lingered in the air.

I blinked for a moment as I passed over another unusual occurrence which was quickly becoming more frequent as I spent more time in this gigantic city. A squirrel was desperately jumping and hopping from a park bench, while an elderly Caucasian lady accompanied by a small asian girl waved a bag of cashews over it. The squirrel jumped and chittered, snatching at the bag with its tiny paws, making for an incredibly cute sight to behold.

The woman noticed me staring, before flashing me a big smile and waving at me warmly as I passed by. I smiled shyly back at her, before continuing and moving along towards my destination.

It was surprising really, how life could go on so simply like this after all these people died at Scion's hands. I had learned from my homework assignments that New York City had seen unprecedented economic and cultural prosperity from the thirty years since point of divergence, which filled the inhabitants with a sense of prosperity and vigor. But the question had to be asked - how long could that last? The presence of supervillains and an understaffed local Protectorate almost always led to gradual urban decay on Earth Bet.

I shook my head, easing myself out of that train of thought.

 _Don't be a Debbie downer Taylor, things aren't bad enough that supervillains are getting into brawls in the streets in the middle of the day yet._

I jolted in surprise when I felt a light impact on my back, which almost caused me to chamber my elbow violently down out of reflex.

"Glomp~!" a cheerful voice exclaimed from behind me as I stumbled.

"Gah! Holly, you scared the shit out of me" I breathed sharply, regaining my balance.

"Sorry, you just seemed a little bit out of it there and I couldn't resist sneaking up on you" the girl behind me continued, squeezing me in a hug.

"Oh god dammit" I sighed.

Holly Barrette was probably.. one of the most exuberant people I'd ever met. I didn't know why, nor did I know how, but from the day I'd met her from the orientation, she'd latched on to me like a magnet. I had to admit she kind of reminded me of an excited puppy, in an endearing sort of way.

She was sweet and extroverted, and I could practically imagine her skipping down the streets sometimes. Holly kind of reminded me of my younger self - bright-eyed and eager to blabber on and on about anything and nothing. It was a refreshing personality to be around though, although I was beginning to suspect from the brief time I've known her that the girl was a little clingy.

"So, any idea of where you want to eat, Holly?" I asked.

"Weelllll" Holly answered, smiling with her eyes while beaming angelically, "There IS this new place that opened up a few blocks south of University Hall..."

-ooo-

You had to be fucking kidding me.

I stood staring up at the sign in disbelief while Holly whistled a merry tune, peering down at the menu that sat outside of the restaurant's seating area.

We were about a block north of Astor place, where most of the city's (relatively) inexpensive hip restaurants were located. The streets were bustling with college students and wall street types looking for a decent lunch, but nobody seemed to have noticed the campy eyesore that opened up on this backalley.

"Hey! Check this out! Wow this Strider Steak Combo looks amazing."

I completely tuned her out, too busy feeling my brain short-circuit as I read off the sign hanging over the restaurant once again.

 _"Fugly Bob's Fusion Superhero Bar and Hibachi Grill"_

 _"A taste of Earth Bet's Unique New England Regional Cuisine."_

 **GRAND OPENING**

"Taylor? You okay there?"

"Yeah...just...uh, wow. This is a pretty interesting choice for a restaurant theme."

I continued to stare at the menu, feeling my blood pressure rise a little. There were the classic Fugly Bob Burgers but...it seemed like the Brockton Bay haunt had expanded their menus by quite a bit.

 _Bakuda Sake Bombs? Miss Militia Shawarma Freedom Wraps? Protectorate Pulled Pork Combo? Alexandria Peanut Butter Fudge Power Sundae? 'The Legend" Blue Cheese Tempura Burgers? Eidolon Matcha Wafers? Purity Pastrami Sandwiches? Narwhal Teriyaki Salmon Bowl? Hellhound hot dogs with spicy Dragon sauce? What the fuck is all this?_

The menu seemed to be arbitrarily loaded with big names from across Protectorate East-North-East, with an extensively lengthy brochure and

"Simurgh's Endless Wings Wallop", "Leviathan's Chirashi Challenge", and "Behemoth's Spicy Sampler Course" Holly read off. "Woah these food challenges look intense. The final challenge in the Behemoth challenge is a takoyaki ball fried in ghost pepper flakes!"

"I don't know about this" I muttered, "An Earth Bet parahuman themed restaurant? Really? Seems a little gimmicky."

The restaurant was fairly sparse for a mid-week lunch hour, but there were still about 20 or 30 people in the modestly sized restaurant.

I scanned the cafe, looking for any sign of the owner, but the eponymous 'Fugly Bob' was nowhere in sight. It wouldn't do for him to recognize me, no matter how small the odds. The Undersiders were pretty frequent patrons of his burger joint back on Earth Bet after a- oh.

My eyes settled on a plaque embedded in the floor in the middle of the outdoor seating area:

 _Dedicated to the heroes of the Golden Morning.  
Dedicated to Robert T. McCormick. Beloved father, husband, and hero._

November 5th, 1956 - June 23rd, 2013.

My eyes skimmed over the dramatic story beneath it detailing how 'Fugly Bob' had ran back to save a boy trapped under debris during the evacuation, successfully carrying a teenager on his back partway to the world portal before tripping and being crushed. The kid had apparently made it though.

I bit my lip, choking back a tear or two. "Fuck it, let's go in" I decided.

"Sweet."

I jolted in surprise as Holly suddenly grabbed onto my wrist and pulled me into the cafe.

"Table for two!" she declared to a waiter.

The waiter led us into the main cafe area, and we settled ourselves down into our seats before being asked if we wanted anything to drink. Apart from the parahuman-themed decorations, the restaurant was pretty typical for a restaurant in the area, with an outdoor cafe area, a standard table arrangement, and a bar with large screen TVs displaying sports games.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" our waiter asked us.

Debating between ourselves for a second on what to get for drinks, I settled for a simple pot of honey-matcha tea while Holly elected for an Alexandria Peanut Fudge Power Sundae.

"Man, this place is really something, huh Taylor?" she looked around at the walls in awe.

"You don't say" I answered, following her gaze.

The cafe's decor was more of a hall of fame and "who's who" of northeastern superheroes and supervillains in the five or six years leading up to the apocalypse. Whoever painted the restaurant definitely knew what all the heroes and villains looked like in East-Northeast, or at least caricatures of them. There were booklets on every table titled ' _Native Heroes of Brockton Bay - The Home of the Original Fugly Bob's'_ which I promptly reached for.

I glanced down, flipping the little comic book style blurbs providing an overview of the A-listers from the Protectorate and the Guild, as well as local independents and villains of the ENE region. I frowned, finding an entry for the Undersiders. It declared us small time villains of the Brockton Bay area known for smash and grabs, but it did note that the Undersiders had eventually outgrown their C-list villain status. At least I knew now that we were only a footnote in this, meaning whoever compiled it hadn't considered us important enough to feature. No mention of my alter-ego Weaver at all.

At the end of the booklet, it went into a bit of detail on the heavy post-Kyoshu exodus the American Northeast had experienced, justifying the fusion American-Japanese cuisine offered at this new location.

"That Armsmaster guy seems like a real badass. Oh, Dragon too! Could you imagine? A world filled with real superheroes and everything" Holly gushed at our pamphlets.

"Yeah..." I set the pamphlet down, opening the menu to begin deciding on what I was going to order.

The drinks arrived as we finished settling in, and we both immediately took a chance to balk at how large Holly's shake was. I poured myself a cup of tea, and dropped a sugar cube from the side into it. Holly's eyes twinkled staring at the shake, and picked it up with two hands.

"A toast to a new and long friendship, and a fruitful, productive semester" she held up her oversized shake with a cheesy grin.

"To a long friendship... and a fruitful, productive semester" I replied with a small smile, touching my teacup to her shake.

I pulled my hand back sipped my drink. It wasn't bad at all, well-whisked like matcha is supposed to be and refreshing.

"Man, what did they put in this? This Alexandria Sundae is so thick you could choke to death on it!"

 _So thick you c-_

I coughed, sputtered, and croaked, doing my best impression of a dying frog.

"Was it something I said? Oh no, Taylor, don't die on me!"

Holly quickly put down the shake, rushing around the table, and supporting me while pounding on my back. I cleared the hot tea out of my mouth, then I chuckled a little before bursting into outright laughter.

"So thick you could cho- God, I just realized I made an innuendo" she giggled, before joining in on my laughter.

God dammit Holly, if only you knew why I was laughing. Black comedy at its finest.

I still felt a twinge of guilt time to time for depriving Earth Bet of one of its greatest heroes and leaders, but that remark was still morbidly hilarious. The two of us continued to giggle and laugh (for different reasons entirely), and Holly retook her seat after she made sure I was alright.

"Hello ladies, have you decided what you want to order yet?" our waiter interrupted again.

"Yeah! I'll have a Strider Steak combo with an E-Eidolon Matcha Wafer please " Holly waved her finger exaggeratedly in the air with a grin.

I sighed resignedly, as if the ironic, surrealness of the situation juuust wasn't enough yet.

"Well...I guess I'll have a **_Skitter_** -ing Snow Crab Roll Combo. Give me a Volcanic Lung Spicy Miso Soup while you're at it too."

"Alright then, will that be all?"

"Yup!" Holly cheered.

We settled back down, eyes still wandering and flicking over the tacky cape artwork that covered the restaurant. It was an eerily uncanny echo from our hometown. I never thought I'd appreciate Fugly Bob's for anything more than the nostalgic memory greasy burgers, but the decorations all over the restaurant strangely reminded me of my home, of the sordid life that shaped my adolescence on Earth Bet.

"So, everything been going alright at work?" Holly asked, sipping her shake and leaning in with interest.

"Kind of..." I started, "I've only been there for about a week, and there are only five people working at the main office. They outsource a lot of their labor overseas, so there's a lot of coordination I have to manage. It's been pretty straightforward so far, though."

"Well...the important part is that you can work with them and keep your head intact through school also. How are the people there, personality-wise?"

"I think they're real visionaries who want to make the world a better place" I started, "but they're definitely lacking direction. Right now the company's mostly selling and leasing bits and pieces of Quality of Life software to prop themselves up. After a few more projects, I think they'll find some firm footing and start making big changes. I can definitely see myself working well with the super-driven Type-A workaholics there."

"To each her own about the Type-As I guess..." Holly snorted, "The only job I had before college was an internship under an old hag who thought she was always right. The annoying part was...well, she actually was right most of the time. I'd personally prefer a more laid-back work environment from now on."

"Heh, I'm pretty used to that sort of environment myself. I find that I function at my best with big goals in mind" I smiled a little, memories more than a little covered by nostalgia.

"So, you said you were busy this weekend right?" Holly smiled. "There's a party I've been meaning to check out Saturday afternoon. It's a social dinner chaperoned at Midtown by one of the service frats, so it shouldn't be anything too crazy. It'd be great if you could...you know, come with me so I'm not heading there alone or anything."

Well...I really wasn't the party-going type. However, I did feel like Holly was the type of friend I'd have to keep an eye on though. She really had the whole bright-eyed adorable, clingy vibe rolling off her. Holly practically had a glowing neon sign over her that screamed "prey" for any malicious creeps that might be lurking out there.

"My dad's coming down for a visit this weekend for lunch. If my dad and I wrap up early I think I'll be able to join you. I'll keep you posted, if that's alright with you."

"Totally!" she grinned. "What's your dad like?"

"Well..." I trailed off for a second, "My mom died in a car crash when I was in middle school, and he's been a little distant ever since. It got a little better after...er, Scion though. He's gone out of the way to close gap between us since.

I swirled the liquid in my teacup a little, thoughts vaguely drifting to the delirium and overwhelming pain I had experienced back then, how Dad had been one of the few thoughts that kept me grounded and anchored.

I shook it off.

"Other than that? He's well-meaning...overprotective, a bit of a worry-wort, like most dads really. How about you Holly? What's your family like?" I asked curiously.

She suddenly looked down to the side, and grief flashed across her face. It was probably the first time I'd seen Holly look sad about anything.

"I'd have a bit of trouble answering that for you. My Dad...was apparently some sort of war hero. They told me he died in the Middle-East stopping a bomb that would have killed a lot of people. Mom? She...she died not too long after. I was raised by my godfather, and he passed away right before I hit full legal adulthood."

Ouch. Way to go Taylor.

I looked at her apologetically, "Holly... I'm so sorry..."

"It's alright Taylor, there's no way you could have known...Oh hey! Our food's here!"

In a second, she was back to the perky girl I'd known. That bubble of energy was really starting to grow on me.

The portions weren't bad at all, just the right amount for me. I raised an eyebrow at the tiny, cutesy, googly-eyed figure of Armsmaster that served as a centerpiece

"Oh my god, that's just freaking adorable" Holly gushed. "I bet this guy was a total killer with the ladies."

I sneezed. Hah, Armsmaster. That's a good one.

 _*THOOM*_

Holly and I both jumped in surprise as a wave passed underneath us, and car sirens started blaring all around us. The other patrons quickly fell silent in alarm. Sharpened senses had me alert, and I was already pulling on the meager scraps of my power to try and expand my range of perception.

"What was that?" Holly whispered, "It felt close."

It did feel close. In fact, it felt real close, _way_ too close.

"Yo barkeep... just a hunch. Switch to New York One would ya?" A man in a business suit shouted.

The bartender, a twenty-something man with a dark brown ponytail obliged, flicking his remote at the television screen.

I glanced upwards, and saw a shaky camera staggering behind a woman, talking into a microphone as she ran ahead of the cameraman.

 _"This is...*huff* Katie Gonzalez live at Cooper Union college, where there appears to be..some kind of brawl *huff* between *huff* a masked man with a spear and a ...flying gorilla in a trenchcoat. The two were spotted earlier battling up along Broadway, and have *huff* not stopped for the better part of an hour."_

"Holy crap... that's like three blocks away!" Holly hissed.

 _A new cape?_ I wondered.

The spearman had a maniacal grin, and his costume was unbelievably flamboyant, even by Cape standards. He wore a renaissance-style red and gold costume, with themes that reminded me of a nobleman. He had a pretty wiry build beneath his immaculate costume, and his blonde hair flowed freely beneath his Venetian-style red mask. There was a crater beneath the spearman, who raised his short spear menacingly up in the air.

Across from him, a chimeric creature stood perched on a large, cubic installation modern art piece that I had passed by just a bit earlier. He had the head of a gorilla, and a pair of demonic wings sprouted from behind his back. From beneath the trenchcoat, I could make out a humanoid, almost gorrila-like skeletal structure, and his limbs were furry like a wolf's.

The two of them stared each other down for a minute, and then the gorilla-man snarled at the spearman.

 ** _"_ Couldn't let a guy get a meal in peace could you?"**

"Heh" the spearman sneered. "Somebody's a bit of a sore loser. Orders from the mistress were orders, monkey boy."

New Yorkers of course, were lined up all around the scene snapping pictures with their phones. It was clear a cape battle was about to break out any second in the middle of Downtown New York at lunch hour.

"Shit, shit! What do we do?!" a woman in the restaurant cried out, and the room burst into chatter. A couple of the people scrambled to pull up their coats, and leave.

 _"Taylor...what should we do?"_ Holly hissed, huddling in against me as we looked up at the standoff on television.

What DID I want to do? Well...

I continued to sip my tea, trying to calm my nerves. I couldn't decide if I should sit back and 'enjoy' the show or try to get involved somehow. Whatever I decided to do in the end, I should probably notify the others.

I took out my phone, taking a snapshot of the screen, before sending it to the group chat.

"Taylor?" Holly whispered.

Why did these things always seem to happen at lunchtime? The second time in a week no less?

I calmly picked up my fork, and stabbed it into a piece of my _Skitter-_ ing Snow Crab Roll, before eating it in one bite. Man, that was some fresh and juicy crab and roe.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand.

...

Fuck.

* * *

Next time: Rewinding the clock by a couple of hours


	25. Turbulence 2-9

**Turbulence 2.9**

A/N: Yeah yeah I know. Just when you think this fic is dead - BOOM, an update! What a terrible tease you are, Verlotorium.

What can I say, life's been pretty hectic as of late, but hey, I got the chapter out and that's what matters in the end. I'm still hoping my schedule clears up a little so I can devote some more time to my writing hobby =).

* * *

 **[Wednesday, September 3rd, 2014. 6:03 A.M]**

 **Brendan**

Things could've been worse.

In the week or so since he'd crawled out of that wreckage, Brendan had somehow managed to regain a semblance of a life. Sure he was stuck prowling the streets for food after the fifth time a grocery store owner chased him out _and_ he had to sleep out in the open, but at least he was alive. More importantly, he was _free_.

Brendan - no, that wasn't his name anymore. He didn't know what he'd call himself, but Brendan O'Dyne was dead. He didn't have anyone left in the world to care for him. His husband had died in the Gold Morning, as had most of his coworkers in his marketing firm. The only thing that had saved his life on the day of the attack was a stroke of luck. He'd been on a coffee break, and had walked back only to witness a ball of golden light crash into the building he worked in, bringing it crashing to the ground. His parents had also perished in the bombardment over Richmond, as had all the other members of his family that he actually cared about.

He'd wallowed in misery for what felt like an eternity, before waking up under a surgical table, and that was the last thing he'd remembered clearly. After that, he'd occasionally woken up during his confinement - drugged out of his mind each time, before being promptly put back to sleep minutes later. The whole experience had been a long, terrifying, and surreal nightmare for Brendan.

Then, almost completely out of the blue, he'd found himself trapped between several pieces of collapsed steel beams, his body vivisected into shreds. Brendan would have expected something like that to be painfully lethal, but his body had respectfully disagreed. To him, it was more like a dull, unpleasant ache, although the experience had been pants-shittingly terrifying. With a panicked thought, he had commanded his body to pull itself together, and he slithered and climbed his way out of the burned husk of a building only to find himself somewhere near Riverside park.

He still felt human, and he still had his memories from before his abduction, but he was obviously no longer human. It was peculiar how his little...mutation worked. Whenever Brendan thought of an animal, parts of his body would take on characteristics of that animal, and he was still struggling to gain control over the spontaneous transformations. However, no matter how hard he tried, he could never get his body to shift towards fully human characteristics.

Brendan had found out painfully that whatever had caused his horrific mutation had sent his appetite had gone through the roof. He found himself craving...biomass, in any shape or form. It was hard to put word to the cravings, but he just needed to _eat._ Normal food still tasted like normal food, but somehow he'd started finding leftover organic garbage palatable. The stuff almost managed to taste like chicken to him now, which is how he found himself digging away at a meaty pile behind a bar in **Little Italy** at the break of dawn. Brendan just wanted to be left alone, to mope a little, to mourn, and figure out what the hell had happened to him, and how he could get his life back together while looking like a supervillain's mad science experiment, which is what he supposed he'd become. The world had turned into a _really_ strange place in such a short time.

...

Unfortunately, people just seem to want to leave him alone these days.

"I'm afraid you are going to have to vacate this neighborhood, sir. The Mistress has ordered me to remove any wayward bystanders from the premises, and you are trespassing on a rather important errand."

"MMMrrrrggg"

Brendan ignored the speaker, opting to continue chomping on the garbage in the dumpster. The panicked squeak of a scurrying rat caught his attention, and he quickly lashed his tongue out, rolling the rodent up using his chameleon-morph tongue with barely a thought.

"Sir, I am going to have to insist that you depart the area, or I will be compelled to remove you by force."

It wouldn't have been the first time a two-bit thug decided to pick on the poor "homeless" guy digging through dumpsters, but they'd found out the hard way that a silverback gorilla with the reaction time and agility of a mongoose was something they didn't want to mess with. There wasn't much a beat cop or two-bit street thug could really do to threaten him when he chose the right animal combinations. He'd learned that much over the last week.

Brendan felt a hand land on his taloned feet, and he snorted in derision. He looked up at the person interrupting his meal with a half-hearted side-eye. It looked like the person standing over him looked like he was one of superhero wannabes that started running around. Brendan had run into quite a couple of the lunatics since the Golden Morning, and most of them gave up pretty quickly once they realized they didn't have real superpowers.

Brendan really didn't need a clown in an over-the-top costume straight out of a renaissance faire telling him what to do right now.

"Beat it kid" he grunted, raising himself out of the dumpster and turning to look down at the spindly teenager standing beneath him. A creature with the head of a wolf, torso of a gorilla, bat wings, and a scorpion tail made for quite an intimidating sight for anyone to behold. He hated having to puff his chest out to get a point across, but people were seriously lacking in common sense nowadays.

Strangely enough though, the figure below him didn't so much as bat an eye. If Brendan still had eyebrows, he would have raised them. Just who the hell was this kid? What if he actually had superpowers?

"I'm afraid that I cannot abide by your request, Beast. My mistress has ordered me to forbid anyone from entering or leaving the premises. I do warn you that if you persist in your scavenging here, I will have to vacate you by force."

Brendan groaned. "Come on boy, quit your method acting crap. Can't you just let a fellow bum around in peace?"

And of course, that was the last thing Brendan knew before he found himself hurtling down the alley, straight into a solid brick wall.

-ooo-

 **[Wednesday, September 3rd, 2014. 12:42 P.M]**

 **Taylor**

I was annoyed.

No, that was probably the understatement of the century.

"This way!" I shouted, dragging Holly to the side and into an alleyway.

I had been held hostage in a bank no more than a couple of days ago, which had been pretty painful and humiliating. Now, after spending the better part of a day ruminating on how well everything had been going, I'd suddenly found myself caught in the crossfire as a freak with a spear tore up downtown Manhattan.

We had all rushed out of the restaurant to gawk at the standoff between the spearman and bat-winged cape, while I figured out how I could clear the crowds and get everyone away from the action. Before I could really do anything, the two capes had abruptly charged at each other, creating a shockwave that could be felt down the block. While everyone else had stood to gape in shock, I had grabbed Holly's hand and led her to the side.

"Why are we back here?" Holly whispered. The narrow passage between the buildings had insulated the screaming outside so that I could actually hear her through all the commotion.

"Taking cover" I replied with gritted teeth while peering around the corner, "The last place we'd want to be is in a stampeding crowd of panicked civilians. We're also less likely to get caught in the crossfire between two Brutes brawling while we're hiding back here. We'll wait for an opportunity and take it when the streets are cleared out, or we'll wait it out."

Although the Case 53 was visibly larger than the blonde spearman, their clash had caused the chimera to fly back into a two-story tall Chase building. The shockwave from his impact had shattered every panel of glass in the building. That had shaken the spectators out of their collective stupor, causing panic to ripple through the crowd. The spearman dashed from side to side in a blur, before hopping in after the Case 53.

A couple of foolish civilians stayed behind, taking cover near the battle and recording the capes clashing with their camera phones. I made a mental groan towards the people recording the fight. Didn't people on this world have any common sense at all? One unlucky move by the capes and they'd find themselves splattered on the pavement.

"Brutes?"

I turned to see her eyeing me with an inquisitive yet nervous look.

"Worlds that had parahumans before Scion attacked classified them by their general capabilities" I answered. "The 'Brute' classification was one of the ones that jumped out to me. Brutes are parahumans that are some combination of big, strong, and tough or possess some other method of self-protection."

"Wow, I had you pegged as someone who really isn't into all this cape stuff."

"I've been reading up on Earth Bet classifications" I deflected, gesturing to my stump. "That information has become available online lately, and I figured I'd read up. Helps me cope, you know? I...kind of lost my arm last year to goldie boy."

"Yeah...sorry about that bringing that up" she murmured, looking down meekly.

I briefly debated on explaining further. I had taken well to the shaken girl standing in front of me, but I didn't exactly know her well enough to trust her with anything that could reveal my past life. I had to be careful if I wanted to stay anonymous.

I flipped open my cell phone. I'd taken a shot of the scene unfolding and sent it to Val, and it looked like she'd finally gotten back to me.

 **[Guardian injured confronting them. Help on way.]**

Alex injured? 'Help on way?' Well that wasn't reassuring in the slightest. Val didn't have any tech to directly put down the two Capes fighting up the block, and Jon was an un-blooded greenhorn. Sirens were quickly approaching, but police would be completely useless against a pair of mid tier Brutes. I also couldn't exactly drown them in insects like I used to be able to. Still, Holly was my responsibility and I had to prioritize getting her to safety over actually finding a way to put a stop to the rampaging capes, if I even could.

Frowning, I put my phone back into my pocket and brushed over the handle of my knife. If they came this way, I should at least be able to hold them off or get a single lethal hit in if worst came to shove. However, bringing out something like tinkertech would definitely raise too many questions.

I glanced around quickly, surveying our surroundings. There was a fire escape, but with only one arm, I didn't have the pulling strength to drag myself up. Holly didn't exactly look like she was out of shape, but she had a similar body type to me, and I wasn't sure if she would be able to help me up when I only had one arm. Plus I wasn't sure if taking to the roofs would be a good idea.

"Look out!" Holly shouted, suddenly throwing her arms around me and falling sideways to the ground with me in tow. A loud crash followed, and I felt a rain of shrapnel scatter all over my back.

"Are you-" *cough* "okay?" she muttered, holding me tight.

"Yeah..." I muttered, while looking up. An SUV had been sent flying towards our alleyway, sending bricks flying off the edge of the buildings and wrecking the car. Cracks ran up the two buildings at the impact, and dust and paint chips fell from the sides of the building.

The capes duking it out had to have a Brute 3 rating at a minimum. If Holly didn't react as quickly as she did and pull me onto the ground, the car would have seriously injured or killed me. Screams chorused in the air as the battle ramped up, and I could hear the loud screech of car alarms and the roar of earthshaking rumbles in the ground.

Turning and separating from Holly, we stood up, and I drew my phone and took a quick snapshot of the car before sending it to Val. If help was really coming, it'd probably be a good idea to give her an overview of where I was.

"Sheesh Taylor, you really are turning into a New Yorker, aren't you?" Holly panted.

"What can I say?" I shrugged. "We don't exactly see this every day, but I _really_ hope it doesn't become a regular occurrence."

It wasn't exactly a lie, but it was effectively a deflection to the unstated question of why I was taking a picture.

"Amen" Holly agreed. "You know, I think it might be a good idea if we got out of here sooner than later."

I hopped over the busted car, peeking out into the fight down the street. The chimeric Case 53 had turned into a winged Elephant-Gorilla, and he was currently clutching a lamp post and swinging it in a wide berth at the costumed cape. The costumed cape dashed side to side in two or three meter jumps, leaving impact craters wherever he landed. His manic laughter was audible from several blocks away

"I think I would have to agree" I drawled.

I winced as the spearman slid under the chimera's wild swing, before launching himself up in an explosive kick and throwing the Case 53 into another bank. Just where the hell had these guys even come from? Why the neighborhood where I was eating lunch for fucks' sake?

"Help me out here, Taylor?" I turned to see Holly staring up the fire escape. "I think I can get up there and pull you up while I'm at it. Beats staying on the low ground when there are two nutcases tossing cars around.

"I don't know Holly," I hesitated. "If the're tossing cars around casually like this, we might end up getting hit by a stray car tossed into the air if we move up on the roof. Also...are you sure you have enough strength to help me up?"

I bit my lower lip, waving my stump for emphasis.

"We won't know unless we try. Also, don't let me girly looks fool you - I'm a lot stronger than I look, Tay!"

"The roofs here are all connected down to Broadway too. I'm pretty sure we can get away from the fight over the roof. So come on!" She shouted while stomping her feet in an exaggerated manner.

I nodded, and jogged over to wrap my one arm around her legs, boosting her up onto the fire escape. She pulled hard into my movement, and quickly managed to pull herself onto the fire escape. Turning around, she held onto my sides as I jumped up into it, pulling on the fire escape with my one good hand. I felt a strong jerk, and suddenly found myself moving up into the air and belly flopping onto the bottom of the fire escape.

"Okay, let's go!" I huffed, crawling to my feet.

We ran seven or eight flights up the fire escape when I was suddenly rocked by another rumble as one of the capes crashed into the building we were scaling.

Here's what people don't tell you about your arms.

We're actually pretty dependent on them to help us coordinate and balance when we walk. Losing an arm - even after a year, really does have permanently debilitating effects on your balance.

As luck would have it, the blow of the impact was enough to cause me to slip off the rung of a ladder I was scaling. I let out a quick yelp, and flailed around futilely for a second, before I was suddenly flung off the side.

"Taylor!" Holly shouted.

She reached out towards me, and everything seemed to slow down as I stretched my arm out to take her hand. With a stark realization, I realized in that moment that I had tried to use my _stub_ of an arm to try and grab out, and I suddenly found my stomach churn as solid ground vanished from beneath my legs.

It'd be funny, wouldn't it? It felt appropriate, almost fitting in a way. It wasn't an unwelcome end, but a funny one nevertheless. Taylor Hebert, Warlord of Brockton Bay, Most Promising Ward of a generation, Slayer of Scion and greatest utilitarian War Criminal in the multiverse dies by falling off a fire escape because she couldn't keep her damned balance. We were a good nine floors above the ground and I wasn't necessarily going to die, but there was a pretty good chance of it.

As quickly as that thought flew by, I suddenly felt a lurch, and found myself falling flat on the ground in a heap, without the bone-shattering snaps and crunches I'd expected.

Wait, why was there a brick wall over my head?

...What just happened?

I felt a hand grab on to my own, and Ilook up to see a pair of light tan eyes behind a ski mask staring into my own.

"Hello, I guess?" I blinked in confusion.

"Um, hi! ...Are you alright?" a girl was standing over me.

I blinked again, still disoriented from my fall and abrupt change in orientation. Taking on her hand, I pulled myself off the "ground". I was somehow sitting flat on the building I had fallen off of, and a girl in a mask was helping me up.

"Woah." I heard from behind me. I turned around to see Holly staring at me from an angle perpendicular to me. The _fire escape_ now seemed to be oriented towards the brick ground I was standing on.

The girl standing next to me rubbed her neck bashfully.

"So uh...I guess you can call me Wallflower. Saw you were in a bit of trouble there and I ran over to help. This is kind of my superpower."

Now that I had an actual moment to collect myself, I assessed the girl who was standing in front of me. She seemed to be around my age, and she wore a pair of baggy jeans and orange hoodie.

Wallflower was a couple of inches shorter than me, but even with the baggy clothes I could make out that she was painfully better endowed and curvier than I could ever hope to be. Despite that, she seemed to be a bit flustered and awkward, and she looked just the slightest bit fidgety and uncomfortable as she glanced at my of missing arm.

"Gravity redirection?" I guessed at her power, breaking the ice.

"Kind of. I can sort of 'mark' someone I'm close to a surface that's perpendicular to the one I'm standing on. If we're both standing parallel to that surface, it gets oriented as the 'ground' with respect to gravity. It's a bit of a trippy superpower, but it worked."

"Anyway, thanks a lot Wallflower, that was a close call" I stated with a small, relieved smile. None of the people in the area were safe by far, but she _had_ just saved me from serious injury or worse.

I heard a clang, and turned to see Holly climb down the fire escape to stand level with me.

"Holy shit!" she gasped. "Taylor you gave me a heart attack !"

"Your friend's safe for now, miss" Wallflower stated, "Now let's get you two on that roof and away from the action."

I nodded, before walking briskly upwards towards the roof with Wallflower following behind me and Holly dashing up the steps. I stared down in curiosity at the next building over. Would I "fall" if I walked forward?

"Just walk onto the roof" Wallflower insisted, "My power...kind of shuts off if you walk onto a perpendicular surface to the one I've attuned you to."

With another step, I felt a spin of vertigo as I walked forward, and suddenly the roof was oriented towards the ground again.

"Whew" Holly huffed, climbing up the stairs after me. "This is already way too much adrenaline for one day."

I opened my mouth to respond, only to have the wind blown out of my lungs by another crash into the building we were standing on.

"HAHAHA YES! SHOW ME WHAT YOU HAVE BEAST! MORE!"

"Holy shit, what a psycho" Holly commented.

Wallflower on the other hand, flinched and her eyes widened in surprise and horror. More importantly, a look of recognition fell across her face, almost as if... could it be?

"Friend of yours I take it?"

"Umn...no?"

Her body language all but _chorused_ bullshit right then and there.

"Cut the crap girl. Do you know that cape?" I growled sharply.

"Hey, hey, hey. Taylor, what's going on? Chill out!" Holly chastised.

"W-why do you want to know?" the cape stuttered.

Dammit Holly, why did you have to be up here with us? If you weren't here I could be way more up front about the fact that I was working with the capes in this neighborhood.

"No reason, you seemed to recognize his voice just now. I just happened to hear a little about a superhero that had gone missing while I was at work over at _Phaseshift_." I emphasized the last part, hoping she had some sort of link to Val and Alex. My gambit paid off as her eyes lit up in recognition.

"Ok ok, yeah..." the cape confessed, catching on. "We're both members of the Initiative. He's been missing for a couple of days, and now he shows up out of nowhere tearing lower Manhattan part. His body gets tougher when he stays in motion,. and he usually builds it up from a jogging pace. He can do some pretty cool physics, defying stuff with it, but I definitely know it isn't nearly powerful enough to do...to do this! He has a bit of an inferior complex but he couldn't hurt a fly, even at his worst."

 **"Hahahaha Beast! Is that the best you can do? I haven't even gotten started yet!"**

I heard sirens blare up in the horizon, and it struck me that we had to work out a plan fast, before the cops came and turned it into a bloodbath.

I thought about the former doctor I had gunned down in the bookstore a week back. His relatives and friends had stated that he was a kind and hard-working man, and there was footage of him using his Blaster power for precision surgery. Until he had snapped and massacred the book store in a fit of homicidal megalomania, there was no history of any psychotic or murderous tendencies.

The realization of what we were actually dealing with fell upon me in an instant, and I began to connect the dots in my head.

There was a Master running around who could control people.

Capes that were affected by this Master would become insane, egomaniacal, and arguably homicidal versions of themselves with absolutely no filter.

Capes that were affected by this Master gained incredible increases to their power mimicking a second trigger.

This sounded pretty familiar, and I really hoped my train of thought was wrong.

It was just my luck that I'd walk into a city only to have another literal _Echidna_ level disaster on the loose within a couple of weeks, wasn't it?

Fuck.


	26. Turbulence 2-10

**Turbulence 2.10**

A/N: This was supposed to be a monstrous, ~11732 word chapter. Unfortunately, it was taking me too long to nail down the plot points and foreshadowing in the second half, so I'm shipping the first part of this chapter out at ~6400 words.

* * *

 **Bill**

 **[Wednesday, September 3rd, 2014. 5:57 A.M]**

The sun was still burning the early fog off the harbor, but it was already all too obvious to Bill that it was going to be a beautiful day. There was just a hint of a breeze in the chilly morning air, and the sky was forming a brilliant, bright blue dome over the city's skyline.

William Blake settled his large frame down onto what would eventually become the thirty seventh story of the New Chelsea Plaza, staring out into the glistening sprawl of Manhattan. The construction worker's mood was anything but bright, and he looked out at the sparkling buildings in front of him, wondering if he even deserved to be alive.

 _It should've been me_ , he thought. _It always happens._ T _he golden rays missed me by inches. The ragheads missed me by a hair. It'd be so easy to make it right, just to push off here and fall. Everybody's say it was an accident, not that anyone would miss another single black male. Probably even be more than footnote in the evening news. How long would it take? Thirty seven stories, four meters per story, nine point eight meters per second squared..._

The kinematics ran through his head in an instant - _just under five and a half seconds_ he thought. _Always too damn smart for your own good, Bill_ came his inner voice. _Just remember, you're not an army engineer anymore. You're a construction worker now. That's all in the past._

He reached out to the cable, pulling himself up, and suddenly he heard someone yell out a story above him.

Henry-Abraham Narine struggled in vain to regain his balance on the edge, and tumbled over. Without hesitation, Bill pushed off from the girder, grabbing at the kid's belt. The hard, rough texture of the cable cut into his hand as it pulled taut under the weight of the two men, but Bill wouldn't let go. For a moment, they were suspended in midair, with the whole city beneath them, and with a rough grunt of effort, Bill swung the cable like a pendulum and tossed Henry back onto the ledge. Then the cable snapped loose.

Time froze for Bill. He knew for sure that he was as good as dead, and he mourned less for himself than for all the people he'd wronged in his life. He let out a quick prayer for his gran's forgiveness, for his single mother he had taken for granted until she died of a stroke. The group of civilian women and children he had failed to save from a grizzly execution in the war. Sarah who had shoved him out of the way during the apocalypse. Bill himself, who was too cowardly to live out his life.

Suddenly, Bill wasn't alone. Several stories down, he felt a jolt as a he slid forward, as if he were on a slide. He hit a solid surface, rolling him into a tumble before a calm, confident voice cried out: "DON'T WORRY! I've got you!"

For an awful moment, he lurched downwards, and Bill felt his stomach churn.

 _NO! Did I pull someone down with me?! I deserve to die but not another one of my boys!_

...But then the rush of air ceased, and Bill found himself hanging in midair, with a pair of strong arms beneath his back and legs. Bill turned his head up to look at his rescuer.

He was a big man, nearly as big as Bill, and the navy blue armor fit him like a second skin. Emblazoned across his chest was a distinctive dark blue shield, and a matching blue cape was tucked in at his collar. His jaw was firm and wide, and the rest of his face was covered by a futuristic visored motorcycle helmet strapped to his head. The helmet looked like something Robo-cop would wear.

His rescuer's ethnicity was ambiguous to Bill, and Bill placed his light yellow-tan skin-tone as Mediterranean or some sort of light-skinned Hispanic. He could have passed for Asian, but Bill didn't think Asians could be built like that. It took him a minute, but Bill finally recognized him from the news, but he couldn't quite place his name, or superhero codename or whatever it was you called it.

"Y-you!" Bill choked out.

The armored figure smiled down at him. "Relax! Everything's alright now, I've got you and I won't let go!"

Before Bill could respond, the caped crusader jumped up off an invisible surface, and launched them both into the air, before setting Bill down on the edge he'd fallen off of.

"You...holy shit...what...huh...what?!" Bill stuttered, at a loss for words at what just happened.

"Take it easy," the man standing in front of him slapped him on the shoulder, still wearing that big, wide smile. "Deep breaths. Let it all out my friend."

The man's voice was a medium baritone, and it was soothing and strangely reassuring to Bill. Bill reflexively relaxed, paying full attention to the cape in front of him.

"You're...you're real! You're him!" the words came flowing out. "You saved my life!"

"HA! Don't sweat it, just doing my job, citizen," the blue-clad figure said, folding his arms in a confident pose. "I saw you jump out to help the other guy, and unlike me, you can't just propel yourself through the air. That effort alone was a lot more impressive than what I just did."

"Man, forget that. I owe you my life!"

The Guardian smiled gently and shrugged. "Just make it count. Live life without any regrets!"

With a wave of his hand, the imposing figure turned around and launched himself away from the construction site. Bill watched him hop between the buildings that surrounded them, disappearing into the maze of high rise buildings. For a moment in time, everything was deathly still save for the howl of the morning wind.

 _Was that a dream? Did that just happen?_

Bill looked down at his shredded hand, staring at the cut the cable left for the first time. Suddenly, his co-workers came rushing up to him, clamoring over each other to check on him.

"Bill!"

"Holy shit man."

"Did anyone get a picture? Was that him?"

"We all thought you were a goner there."

"Take the day off man. Jesus fuck. That was close"

Bill turned his hand over, inspecting the lashes.

"I _was_ a goner there" Bill murmured.

 _I was a dead man, but I'm not anymore. He's given me another chance at life, and I can't squander it away this time. Got to make it all count._

The imagine of the superhero standing confidently against the backdrop of the rising sun with his wide smile lingered in Bill's head. It was a little inspiring, even.

 _Thank you._

* * *

 **Guardian**

 ** _"Just make it count. Live life without any regrets?_** _Geeze, could you be any cheesier?"_

"Shut it Sally" I breathed even as the wind battered my armor.

Each and every day since I decided to take up the mantle, I would more or less follow the same routine. I'd wake up, cook myself a hearty breakfast, and throw myself straight into my exercise regimen. I was still a part time college student on my last eight credits, but I'd already built a **very** successful SaaS company with my best friend. I was doing all of this as New York City's first public superhero to boot.

Needless to say, I had a lot on my plate. I was a little more than fortunate that my superpower "package" had granted me a sort of accelerated regenerative sleep cycle. Nowadays, I only needed one or two sleep cycles to wake up fully rested, and I took advantage of my superpowers to squeeze every minute that I possibly could out of the day. Taylor had told me that powers, whatever they were, tended to be grouped around a core theme with an underlying core concept.

As an example, Taylor had explained to me that her ability had revolved around insect control, which she later learned was control of 'simple' life forms. Now **that** had immediately piqued my curiosity, although Jon's first response was to dismiss its usefulness outright, earning a long side-eye from both me and Taylor.

My reaction a moment later was an enthusiastic machine gun of questions. _"Woah, how many?"_ , _"can you see through them?",_ and _"They had you on reconaissance right?"_.Stuff like that.

Her flabbergasted reaction was priceless - almost as if she was used to people dismissing her ability completely, and she'd done her best to answer my questions and entertain my enthusiastic theorycrafting for over an hour.

I shook my head again, thinking about Jon's initial dismissal of her power. Then again, I couldn't blame him. Most people really had no imagination after all, no matter how smart they were on the books.

Taylor had gone on to explain that she had no upper limit to sheer numbers in the past, or to her fine control and ability to 'perceive' through her 'swarm', but that her range was limited to around four blocks. Even lowballing it, that was still at _least_ 300 meters.

Reading between the lines, I'd quickly deduced that her power had translated to infinite parallel processing, which meant that it was practically the most useful power I could think of in a team. Without even going into the specifics of what she did with the Protectorate, she had confirmed my question of whether or not she could theoretically keep track of an infinite number of computer monitors and voice inputs at once.

If I had to be honest, I had a lot of fighting ability and good street instincts, but there was no way I could have gone so long in my one-year war on crime with zero injuries I couldn't heal in a day from because of my ability to **gather information**.

Taylor had by far the single most useful power in my package, with a lot more versatility. Sure she was useless against any "Brutes" or theoretical capes with aura abilities, but I couldn't imagine her being anything less than a core team member for any large scale missions in that Protectorate she joined.

Thinking about my other teammate - Val's power was also straightforward. Val had described it as kind of a 'shortcut' that 'highlighted the information she wanted', whether it was signs of danger, where raindrops would land, or the next step she needed to take to prove the Riemann Hypothesis or Navier-Stokes Theorem if she ever felt like it. So were powers like Phaser's, which mostly consisted of rays of high energy laser beams.

Mine? Or Jon's even? Well, I had no idea what sensing metal, using the metal sense to create forces that act on me, making force walls, and regeneration had in common. The whole kit was baffling enough to me that I needed boatloads more information about it if I ever wanted to figure it out.

Well, if I ever had time to think about it or experiment, it was during these morning runs. Going for a "parkour" challenge every morning (and most evenings) really did a lot to help me zone out and reflect a little. The exercises I made up for myself to jump and zoom all over the city also had the added bonus of allowing me to keep an eye out for any trouble in lower Manhattan keep the peace. My route usually lasted around an hour or two depending on my mood, and the exercises took me from Chelsea through Greenwich Village, down to SoHo, and up from the Lower East Side back up to the East Village.

On most days, nothing would really happen. On other days however, I would stumble on to some relatively minor trouble, such a thief breaking into a car or a vagrant overdosing on heroin. Rarer still were actual armed robberies, murder attempts, and break-ins, which I always intervened in personally.

A man falling off the edge of scaffolding right as I was passing by?

Well, that was a first. Thankfully, I'd shown up in the nick of time and caught him right as he dropped. The image of the large construction worker teetering over the edge filled my mind. What if I hadn't been there? The man would have certainly fallen to his death.

 _"That was still a great save Alex. You're doing a stellar job."_

"All in a day's work" I muttered.

I had to agree with the AI's sentiment. It was always a nice feeling you know, to feel like I was actually being productive while hopping around skyscrapers at sunrise. Still, it was way too close of a call, and I was glad I had nailed it. Serendipity could be amazing at times, but hopefully there wouldn't be any more surprises today.

A loud boom suddenly echoed through the air as I launched myself down Canal Street. I snapped my head towards the noise, and the rapid reports of continuous gunfire began echoing through the air.

Oh. Come. On. I just had to fucking jinx it for myself didn't I?

 ** _"Be careful..."_**

"You know you sound more like your old ma every day. Thanks for the concern though, Taming-Sari."

I could practically hear her fuming over our comm-link. Even though she existed as a small cloud of q-bits, she hated being reminded that she was a bit of an accident created while we were working on a machine learning security suite. Val didn't know what her neural mapping active defense experiment would actually work, and she ended up creating an honest-to-god miracle.

 ** _"You know I hate it when you call me that. I'll have you know I'll be playing mom the recording right as she wakes up. You're in for it now buster!"_**

I couldn't help but smile at her response. It was so human, I could forget that she wasn't Val's actual little sister or daughter sometimes.

"Sorry, but I'd rather be safe than sorry out here. Who knows who or what might be listening in this close to the action?"

The technological lapse we'd experienced during the bank robbery still dug at the edge of mind, but as far as I could tell through thorough inspection, nothing was wrong with our equipment or infrastructure. I'd always had a tendency to crack under sufficient, often self-inflicted thresholds of mental pressure. I compensated that with street-bred paranoia and tons of contingency plans.

Without a moment of hesitation, I shifted the direction I was traveling, and jumped towards the gunshots with my power. It was a stretch of distance I was able to close in under half a minute. As I approached, I focused inwards, focusing on all the vague outlines available to my "mental sense". I furrowed my brow in alarm when I got close enough to scan the area with my power.

About a block away, a cloud of metal particles filled my power's field of detection in what looked like a silver blizzard where dozens of guns were firing at each other. Below me, there was a trembling handgun in a dumpster down three turns in the alleyway.

In another direction, there was a metal spear no doubt carried by one of the people involved. Moments before I had closed on the site, he had been dashing around an alleyway as metal fragments from the buildings near him had fallen from the air in loud booms that I could hear nearby. Now, whoever was carrying the spear slowly moved towards my direction, and I could vaguely hear a creepy lullaby echoing down the alleyway being sung with a man's voice.

 _" **Come ou** t ... **come out** Maaaaarcccuuuuuussss, come out to play-yeeyayyyyyy "_

Ignoring the taunting, sing-song voice echoing around the winding back alleys, I hopped over to the next building before dropping down to stand in front of the dumpster I had pinged. There was a pile of debris and garbage bags surrounding it, and unwanted vintage-looking furniture seemed to line the alleyway I was in including a bunch of sofas, mattresses, and tables. Forming a solid force field between my torso and the dumpster, I opened a gap in my shield line and kicked the lid upwards, throwing it back.

"Eep!" a bloody figure yelped scrambled a notably undignified way. He scrambled up from his seated position, leveling a stupidly large handgun at me. He stared at me like a deer in headlights, hands shaking violently as he took aim at my head. The man stumbled on the pile of trash he was balancing on, and I timed a barrier to shift his momentum, causing him to fall forward out of the dumpster into a roll.

"Relax, I'm here to help, so put that over-sized fucking peashooter away from me. And sheesh, don't you think you're overcompensating a little? Just a bit?"

Just for good measure, I added another layer of shields angled to deflect and slow any bullets. No use getting surprised by a jittery man with an oversized handgun after all and put it into the ground.

"'ey, what the hell is going on in here?" I demanded.

"S-she... t-hat crazy bitch bumped h-half o' us off and walked out with the rest of us like a bunch o' lollygagged rats! Sent 'er Lackey to hunt me down" the man gagged, and spit out a wad of blood.

He groaned, and I saw him grab at his bleeding chest in pain. "You...you know any street docs? G-got anything for the pain? The bleeding? Fuck..if you hadn't...I'm."

I looked at the man bleeding out next to the dumpster in front of me. His face looked _very_ familiar to me, and in a moment, I had a name pegged to the face. Over the course of the year I'd spent fighting organized crime in New York City, I had gone out of my way to memorize the faces of every major player in the Underworld. The lead enforcers, the major lieutenants, the Caporegimes of the Italian mob, the Red Poles of the Tongs, the Avtoritets of the Bratva remnants, you name it.

The man groaning in front of me had a reputation, and had massive rap sheet to boot. Even without a prompt from me, _Taming-Sari -_ Sally, had loaded up a dossier I'd written on him months ago.

"Marcus Pellegrino," I drawled, "Enforcer and personal bodyguard to Underboss Moretti. Known for hundreds of cases of assault, extortion, and possible human trafficking and assassinations, which...the FBI and OCGS have so far been unable or _unwilling_ to prove."

"Y-yeah...looks like you did yer homework kid. I'm a made man for Moretti. I-I plead the fifth on those other accusations though. I'm an innocent man I swear."

I glared at him, we both knew that neither of us believed that for a second.

"Give me one reason I should help you." I stated, crossing my arms as I glared at him. "You and your lot are _scum_ " I hissed. "Yes I know what you guys have your fingers into nowadays, but give me one reason why I shouldn't leave you here for the guy walking down the alley right now or to drop you off somewhere high up to die of sepsis."

With the laundry list of atrocities and crimes he probably had under his belt, letting him die would have been karmic to say the least. I was going to help him regardless - I didn't exactly want to go down the slippery slope of appointing myself judge, jury, and executioner. He didn't have to know that, of course. He was scum, but I wasn't going to leave him to rot. It also didn't mean I had to enjoy it.

"A-ain't you supposed to be some kinda wannab- er, superhero? Shit. L-look...everyone knows we've been losing power for years. Losing all those Borgadas and Capos in there is gonna hurt. I dunno what I can yell ye... wait, I'm...I'm pretty sure I'm the only fella walking who can tell ya anything about the crazy psycho bitch."

He moaned again, grabbing at a nasty looking gash on the side of his chest, before staring at me apprehensively. Yeah of course a mob enforcer would jump straight towards self-interest instead of justifying his bullshit. On some level, I hated strong-arming a guy like that, but I knew these mobster types would pounce on any weakness or hesitation from me, and they were _awful_ human beings. I'd seen their handiwork first hand walking the streets. I maintained my posture, staring down Pellegrino even as I heard the sing-song taunts getting closer.

"I'm waiting on you here buddy, the ball's in your court" I replied as coldly as I could. "I'm not lifting a finger until I hear something actionable. Hey, maybe I've even got something for your bleeding too."

Sweat began to visibly bead on his head for a moment as he glanced around in panic.

"Alright fine. I'll talk, I'll talk! Just underneath yer just as fucked and crooked as any of us aren't ya? I was there when silver bitch walked into our meeting ten minutes ago. Whatever freaky mind control bullshit she does, it works fast, but she has to be really close for it to work. Some of my buddies and I were far enough that we didn't get caught in it when she walked, and I could tell pretty quickly that something was up. Kept my distance, popped a few magnum rounds in her. She ate rounds from this baby like nothing! Turned into a fucking silver freak, hardened like a statue and all. Look, just get me out of here and I'll tell ya everything."

 _Turned into a silver freak? Hardened like a statue? Well that's peachy. Mind control was bad enough already._

"That's more like it" I grinned, more than happy with the information he gave up. I reached into my belt and tossing him a first aid kit, which also had a tube of Akash's hemostatic gel in there. Not like I was going to tell him what it was for if he didn't discover it for himself though.

"Patch yourself up, I'll take care of the psycho walking down the alley and come back for you in a minute."

...I hope.

Following my usual modus operandi, I jumped up with my power to find a superior tactical position. I landed on the edge of the roof as he slowly walked down the alley, two alley turns away. Like Greenwich Village, the area around Canal Street was riddled with causeways, alleyways, and formerly secret tunnels used by Italian and Chinese immigrant enclaves in the 19th and early 20th centuries. The winding, wide backalleys were perfect for setting up ambushes.

I stayed quiet, quickly moving across the ledges as he approached, rambling in sing-song the entire way. Despite what you would expect from a guy with my get-up, and a cheery superhero persona that was quickly building up to the public, I fought like a dirty bastard. I fought with ambush tactics and never gave up any advantage I could find in the initiative. A childhood rife with bullying and gang-related terror in Queens housing projects had conditioned those habits into me.

 **"This will be fun! Death! Cleanse the filth! Yes!"** the cape continued to ramble.

Slowly, I positioned myself behind the footsteps and peered over at the cape standing below me. I brushed along the ledge, causing pebbles to fall down as I took a look at what I was dealing with.

Wait. The guy _also_ looked very familiar to me.

I couldn't be sure of it from where I was perched, but I had to confirm it.

Waiting for the maniac below me to move again, I peered over the ledge again, and squinted in suspicion. I could see that the figure below me was wearing a stupidly flashy costume like he was an ancient nobleman, but the blonde hair, his build, his gait, and also his posture were eerily familiar.

My mind raced, and I dearly hoped I was wrong.

"Taming-Sari" I whispered, "Run a triangulated height comparison between the man I'm looking at and Thomas Summers."

My visor lit up.

 **[MATCH]**

Fuck.

"Compare voices modulation with saved training video files."

 **[MATCH]**

Double fuck.

My mind quickly jumped to an obvious conclusion. He had somehow been caught by the mind control cape - the "Master" as Taylor would put it, and fallen under her control. It was a terrible situation, and one I needed a way to resolve it without Taylor putting a bullet in his head like she did to that unfortunate surgeon.

I couldn't drop him with an aerial high-momentum strike like I often did with gangbangers. He was technically an innocent in all this, and dropping a 230 odd pound man on someone foot-first tended to fracture some collarbones.

My best option for bringing him in was probably to take him to the ground with a blood choke, before sedating him with the cocktail of Benadryl, Haloperidol, and Lorazepam in my belt that I cooked up in case of emergencies.

Soundlessly, I positioned myself over him, and gently lowered myself to ground level with my power. I felt out for his rhythm, like I had done to countless grappling opponents before me at a distance. Forming an invisible bar in tune with his steps, I broke his balance by tripping him with my power, and surged forth with a superpower-fueled jump towards him arms extended. Jumping over him as he fell, I snapped my arms forward around his neck.

...Only to grab at air as he turned into a blur, bouncing off the ground in front of him and leaving a crack where he was standing.

Well, **that** was new.

I knew his power was definitely **not** capable of doing that the last time I checked.

He landed in a crouch, and turned to me with a sadistic grin painted across his lips.

"Well, well, well! If it isn't the self-appointed Guardian of New York. Are you here to help me exterminate these cockroaches?" He began to hop foot to foot, seemingly giddy with excitement. He crossed his spear behind his neck, and stared at me from under his mask with that eerie smile.

"Thomas" I stated, regaining my stance from my failed grappling attempt. "Your head isn't in the right place now. Fuck, you're a good guy, think about what you're doing for a second. Sure they're scumbags, but don't you see something fundamentally fucked up with going around slaughtering these men?"

Hopefully I could find a way to get through to him, but the way Taylor described Master powers were terrifying to me. Some variations of Master powers made the target feel like there was nothing wrong at all in their heads. It was probably futile, but I had to at least try. He hadn't moved in a couple of seconds, and was still staring at me with that creepy manic grin.

I had taught Thomas a move or two to keep him safe over the past couple of months months, and I thought I had a pretty good gauge of his powers working with the Brooklyn Initiative to secure their neighborhoods. The Initiative had around a dozen members, and only four of them had powers, Thomas included. Of the four, only one was older than 20 years old, and Michelle **strongly** disapproved of using their powers for vigilantism.

What he just did was definitely something I hadn't seen from him at all, and I kept my stance loose and my guard up. Would drawing my tonfas be regarded as a hostile action? How was I supposed to handle this situation? I needed to keep trying to talk to him.

"Well, that sentiment is a real pity. A **pity pity pity pity pity.** "

Unfortunately I didn't even get the chance to try.

Faster than the blink of an eye, he was on me with a wall of blinding overpressure buffeting my face. He'd caught me off guard, but I reacted quickly as he stabbed his spear towards my head. Even through his incredible burst of speed, the strike was highly telegraphed, and I managed to weave my body to the side.

I quickly shifted my stance, bringing up a tonfa to parry the stab. He swung the back side of the spear around, slamming it with a CLANG as I drew the other tonfa in the blink of an eye.

The sheer acceleration of his movement rattled my forearm, and I sunk my right leg into the ground to avoid being launched through the air outright by the impact.

I saw a flash from his legs, and I felt the wind knocked out of me. I keeled over as I felt a crack in my ribcage, and my world exploded in pain as I felt my rear leg give as I was launched down the alleyway.

I pushed back with my power, yanking me in a dizzying momentary G-force, but I managed to prevent myself from slamming into the wall. I did a backflip that was way too nimble for a guy of my size, landing on one leg.

A blinding, painful jolt suddenly ran up my ankle, and I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming from pain. I stumbled only to feel a similar sharp sensation radiated out from my torso.

My chest burned with a sharp ache, and I struggled to bring my guard back up. I had a feeling three or four ribs had fractured, and I was already struggling with double vision. He had preserved and carried all his momentum through the stab, back swing, and follow-up kick. This was **really** bad.

Fights in real life didn't go the way shows and movies usually depicted fights and duels. When a fighter gets hit **that** hard from the get-go, he was probably screwed. No matter how good someone is, a torn muscle or a broken bone was unbelievably difficult to fight through, and both would open you up to more wounds. Sure you could last a long time in a defensive battle if you knew what you were doing, but it was usually a slow process of attrition as an injured fighter was slowly worn down.

I had no illusions about how I stacked up with most of humanity, physically. By taking advantage of my quick and efficient recovery times, I had trained my muscles and central nervous system to a level comparable to _'peak humans'_ from the comic books, such as Captain America and Batman.

I was a national class tournament Sambo fighter thanks to Aunt Katya's tutelage over the years to deal with my bullying problem, and I was modestly proficient in Kobudo, Choy Li Fut, and Muay Thai.

Without the aid of my metal-based force projection ability, I could Clean & Jerk five hundred pounds, deadlift over a thousand pounds, run at thirty miles an hour for hours without exhaustion, and sprint in bursts at forty miles an hour.

All of that would be useless with half my ribs fractured and an achilles tendon torn. I had to figure out a way to wing through this fast and escape with Pellegrino.

I settled down, lowering my arm on my right side in a squared high stance. The top ribs on that side ached with every movement, but it was the best I could do.

Giving me no time to rest, he cackled and charged at me in a blur. He seized the opening I gave him, going straight for the kill with a thrust aimed at my right lung.

...and I countered, parrying with my tonfa up in a high thrust. I slammed the steel weapon it into his jaw while using a burst of my power to add momentum to my swing. The force of the impact created a gust of air between us, although I dampened the force with a shield I quickly created. I reflexively grunted as my ribs flared up with pain.

He hopped back, brushing some spittle off of a cut lip. That was a good sign, he was tough when in full acceleration, but not invulnerable. I adjusted my stance, raising my arms high, and subtly edged closer.

My brain raced, coming up with a quickly analysis of his new, _augmented_ power set. Thomas's power worked with momentum, allowing him to preserve it while moving forward and increasing his durability as he ran.

Before this Master got to him, Thomas's power allowed him to smash straight through brick walls given enough of a running start. Whatever happened to him seemed to have drastically decreased the time he needed to build up his...' _Brute'_ power.

Defaulting to grappling was the best option to deal with an ability like that, but losing the ability to take a solid square stance greatly limited the techniques I could perform. With my ankle out of commission, I was forced to rely on using tonfas in short, quick strikes, with additional shoulder drive added to my shoulders.

He cackled, coiling up and sprinting straight at me before zooming into a blur. This time he went for a wild, slashing swing towards my fractured ribs, which I had left exposed. I pushed into a forward jump with my power right as his blurring began, executing a rotating double block.

My right arm went numb even as my left collided with his inner thigh, and I nearly keeled over as another jolt of pain shot up my ribs. I knew I caught him earlier in his acceleration this time, and I needed to follow through while I had him stunned.

Gritting my teeth, I immediately followed through on the movement, twirling my left arm to land a second blow on his kneecap while his momentum was stalled from our collision.

I rotated my hips to follow through, but my arm wouldn't respond properly through the pain. I had only landed a glancing blow on his torso, nearly dropping my tonfa from the recoil to my ribs.

"Gah!" he yelped in pain, before blurring past me to stand at the other end of the alley where he had left a small crater. He shook his leg out and crouched down, glaring at me from a three point position with his spear held back.

"Haaah...h-huh...hach..." I croaked as I breathed, trying to focus through the pain.

 ** _"Alex, you need to get out of there fast."_**

 _I know_ I thought to myself. It hurt too much for me to actually talk.

It was getting almost impossible to breathe in my costume. This really, wasn't good. I could feel my power working, but my healing factor was far too slow. I wasn't like Wolverine or Deadpool or anything. My power was more like an accelerated healing cycle, and it wouldn't work fast enough to get me back into fighting shape with the pressure he was laying on me.

Marcus Pellegrino had disinfected his wounds, but he had slumped against a wall and passed out not too far away. If I left now, the mafioso was a dead man.

 ** _"Just leave! Pellegrino isn't worth it_."**

I grunted, which honestly could have meant anything. Not I even _I_ knew.

I knew that the smart thing to do here was to hop up to the roofs and run away, or even play to my strength and get a proper drop on Thomas. However, I couldn't resign myself to leave a man, even a scumbag, to die by Thomas's hands. There was no way I'd have enough time to regroup and make a difference in time. I had to settle it here.

I settled into a medium bladed stance and took a southpaw stance. The glaring opening I'd leave would be at torso level this time.

Even though I could barely see him when he moved, there was hardly any skill to his wild thrusts and swings.

The problem was... well, it wasn't exactly easy hit something I could barely track with my reflexes still stuck within human limits. There was only so long I could keep this up until he figured out my ploy.

He coiled up from his crouching position like a spring, and charged, once again telegraphing a chest level spear thrust.

I was taken by surprise when he halted his momentum, dropped low, and delivered all his momentum into the ground where we'd cracked the floor earlier. A dust cloud filled my line of vision, and I had to blink as the dirt flew straight up under my visor and caked my vision.

I did my best to prepare myself for whatever he was trying in that split second. I swung my tonfa as the silhouette appeared, and caught him on the elbow right as flicked his hand open at my face from a crouched position. I recoiled in pain as he threw a cloud of dirt, pebbles, and sand straight at my eye with all the momentum he hadn't just sent through the ground.

It was a design flaw, leaving just enough room below my visor to ventilate my costume. I hadn't even considered that someone would pull a maneuver like that to throw up a dust cloud. A bit of my inexperience in fighting _other_ capes leaking through.

Blinking through the sand in my eyes, I desperately threw up a round slope of forcefields in front of me as I backpedaled. Unfortunately, I stepped on my sprained ankle in my stunned daze and reflexively twisted on my bad ankle, causing me to stumble and lose my balance. A mistake he definitely wasn't **skilled** enough to - but definitely **fast** enough to capitalize on.

With a blur, he stabbed straight through and impaled me on his weapon. It barely registered to me when I felt my entire body slam against something hard a moment later.

"Pscht, I missed," he spit.

Instead of a clean stab through the heart, I had deflected his stab at the last moment to take me through an angle that just barely "sliced" my right lung.

It was a less lethal hit, but still a pretty fatal wound for a normal person. The force of the blow had been enough to impale me against one of the heavy sofas in the alleyway.

 ** _"You were showing me openings on purpose, weren't you?"_** he hissed into my ear as I struggled.

"You were tricking me into attacking openings you left so that you could counter them. Oh you are amazing! I've always admired your contributions to a proper society Alex. It is a great honor to be the one to kill you."

Taking a step back, he fumbled around his costume for a moment, before drawing a serrated kitchen knife from his costume.

Slowly, as if he were savoring a well-seasoned cut of sirloin, he began to walk up to me.

I felt my chest clench and my obliques spasmed again in pain. I wheezed, trying to breathe through my punctured lung. I could see my own death approach in slow motion as he twisted, bringing the knife up towards my throat. Once again, I was staring down death straight in the eyes.

My last brush with death was cold, professional even. A clear professional got the better of me a couple of weeks, and went straight for an execution.

This. Well, **this** was more personal, and intimate even. If I were to miraculously survive the next moment, it would probably haunt me for a very long time. His face was crazed, twisted in obvious, passionate bloodlust as he went for the kill.

 _I guess this is it._ I thought. My blood still pumped with panic, and I couldn't struggle without risking further damage. I was fucked.

The clenching in my chest suddenly faded and I could tell he was going to go for something brutal. If I had to guess given his power-induced insanity and weapon of choice? Probably something like a gory decapitation. Fun thoughts.

My vision and strength was fading fast, and I could feel a fever rapidly setting in as my wound inflamed, a clear sign of my power kicking in. Hopefully I hoped for a small mercy like passing out from the shock before he could get on with it.

 **"NOT. DONE. WITH. YOU. YET."**

Just as the clenching sensation in my chest faded, a large black shadow slammed into the charging spearman, and the alleyway filled with dust as my savior slammed him into a building.

 _What the fuck? Where did he come from?_ I idly thought as I finally felt my strength leave me, going limp.

I yelled in pain as I felt the spear impaling me against the wall shake, and my entire world exploded in pain as it roughly popped out of the gaping wound in my lung. I slumped down against the wall and all I could think about was how lightheaded I felt. I could feel my consciously rapidly fade, but I had to hang on. I struggled to stand up, but I was overwhelmed by fatigue and vertigo, along with a pounding sensation on in my temples.

Through my delirium, I could make out a silhouette crouching down over me against the backdrop of the sun. The figure held a hand up to brush over and feel up my forehead.

"What a mess" I heard a distorted voice whisper. "Edgelord de Medici over there really worked ya over, huh?"

It was the last thing I heard before happy, blissful unconsciousness took me.

* * *

A/N 2: Why do most of Alex's PoV chapters involve gratuitous combat and violence? I should really cut it out and stop abusing the poor guy.


	27. Hiatus note

This fic is now formally on hiatus while I write my original web serial and my Worm/My Hero Academia Crossover - The Bodega (the latter of which can be found in my profile)


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